As he cried, in lowly stature,
he could not forgive himself,
for what came from him
was foreign, unexpected,
and never had an outburst
been without consciousness,
as if someone else struck, not he,
yet here before him was a woman no-more,
a lifeless vacant shell of a life, he had taken.
The pain of confusion, regret and sorrow
pervaded his every cell, his most cherished self,
and the realisation of consequence
raged through him like a freight train,
for the one person he had truly loved,
he betrayed in the most heinous way,
robbing her of her very existence,
her dreams and hopes,
her last gasping breath a horror
of what he would do.
She lay staring out the window,
as if to beg freedom,
and her head blood-soaked,
a crack to her skull opened wide by an iron doorstop,
and this snuffing of life because of fear,
of desperation, as she was to leave him,
and he, in unconscious action
perpetrated an end to his nightmare, or so he thought,
and now in cold stark awareness,
his nightmare reincarnated.
Panic was without purpose,
there was no escape, just a certain end,
and so he called the authorities
and sat calmly down awaiting their arrival,
seeped in guilt, remorse
and a regret that would carry him
through what was left of his existence,
in a cold steel box, forged of his own choosing,
alone as he always feared, till end of days.
Often crime is not evil, just a mind un-tethered,
temporarily lost in emotion,
and blind to the desperation held inside.
A sentient mind recognizes
there is a consequence to every action in life,
and taking responsibility is the first step to redemption.
Tony DeLorger © 2016
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