The Witching Hour

“Learned your lesson, have you?”
The murderer croons
Leaning over my darling’s dead body.
Fingertips dragging through blood on the pavement.
An inch and a half of deadly red
Surrounding his beautiful dead flesh.
His eyes, they were open.
Emerald and shining.
Living as ever before.
His lips, draining color
I take my chances now.
One last kiss, before they turn white
A kiss dead as anything.
A kiss lost to bare skin
Turning colder still
One kiss.
A death.
An angel.
A ghost.
A loss.
A murder.
A scream.
A tear.
Bloodlust.