Smooth Handle, Sharp Blade
solitude shines in the blade of a knife
ornate patterns carved into the handle
an alluring thing i grasp
a piece of beauty
until it is plunged in the chest
beautiful to have
beautiful to hold
beautiful to admire in doses
beauty stripped in its excess
blood pours from the wound
unabating, as is true of the weapon
blood staining your clothes
pain tainted horizons
bystanders pause and gape
some grimace in disgust
some parrot murmured concerns
some wish they had only been so lucky
while some scoff at the waste of such craftsmanship