On the Way Down by Crimson Quintessence

On the way down, I saw you sitting on the park bench, head in your hands.

I thought, how sad, how lonely.

I wanted to cradle you in my arms.

Then I saw the grin.

Your eyes, blood-shot, deep hatred rose upon your brow, 

You snarled at the air that surrounded you.

A claw came out from your withered and crooked hand.

It was almost inhuman, beastly looking.

A harsh light shed on the way down 

Another bombshell dropped.

There, the body lay, to your left, her golden hair stained black in the moonlight.

The life lifted from her eyes.

You, are a chameleon, hiding and adapting in plain sight.

You’re not meant to be here.

Leading lambs to the slaughter.

You silver-tongued devil.

You should know, you are on the way down, but where you are descending to, I’ll never see.

Death and the Devil await you!
Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

Thank you for Visiting with love JillyG

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Welcome to the Rivers of Grue. My name is Richard Charles Stevens, Keeper of the Crimson Quill, and this is my immortal legacy. In honour of the fallen, from the deepest essence of an English gentleman with the heart of a lion, soul of a poet, and eyes for only truth. While the subject matters herein may be dark, there exists always a light source. Providing voice to the voiceless until I breathe my very last.

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