The pale ones.
Walking in the snow, bear footed
Grainy, Sticky.
It is uncomfortable
But bearable
Walking towards my door,
I don't remember coming out
The door swings open easily
Hadn't I locked it?
Making way to the kitchen
To get warm water
The place is eerily quite and dark
A metallic pungent lingers in the air
Walking further to inspect the smell
I see three pale figures Huddled around each other.
They make no noise as they bent their heads and move their hands.
Their black hair forming a curtain
Covering the blood on their face
On further inspection I see a fourth figure on the floor, lying motionless.
The pale hands tear the flesh,
Making the wound bigger
Blood from the corpse till their mouths
The corpse looks peaceful, unsuspecting
Wearing pink pyjamas that are mine
Looking down I see a gaping hole in my chest
The pale ones smile at their victory.
Why me?
I tried to stop it
I really did
I requested them not to do it
They didn't listen
So I threatened them
Look where that got me
Standing in front of justice
My eyes screaming 'I'm innocent'
Standing in front death itself
Trying to tell him 'not today'
Justice is blind
Death is deaf
So I face the wrath and go to my creator with no regrets
For I did try