Watching silently.

The stink, of a decaying angel
Wings like mould or dust,
A putrid brown, a green ocean
Of her eyes, which watched the sunset longingly,
All life sucked from them,
Dark rotten green, watching. Watching me
Wishing for her life, which had been stolen away,
By one of whom she loved
Until this day.
Broken strings though, still connected her
Weakly to the world,
As if her puny sharp voice
Still screamed to be living.
Murder? No. Regretted Suicide.