A Murders Karma

The man

A crack of thunder A shout of a voice
A reflection of a gravestone A flash of a torch
A panicked whisper A life left heap
Another body A scream that came from me
A scratch on my face A swing of a mace
A scream that stopped and A man walk away from
Did not carry on the seen of the crime
THE MOON TURNED BLACK WITH AN ORANGE
RIND.

A crack of thunder A shout of a manly voice A reflection of a gravestone A flash of a run down torch
A panicked whisper No life left heap
Another body A scream that came from him
A scratch on my face No swing of a mace
A scream that stopped the murderous man lay dead
And did not carry on on the floor never to enter
A prison door
THE MOON TURNED BLACK WITH AN ORANGE
RIND.

by amber shoremarston

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