Silent night on a hill, Christmas eve and I’m still; Motionlessly waiting for peace,
Quietly in the few minutes before the holiday sunrise. The Christmas spirit exists in a few ticks, it’s there and gone, while consumed sleepers' sleep. The street-stained snow gets covered again, greeted with a new coat. Solitarily that feeling erupts, That tranquil beauty materializes, taking hold to warm a few lucky hearts. Until that boisterous morning unwraps itself, and that stillness disappears regrettably lost in reality for another year.
The cold harsh light of people’s stares, cause the brim of my hat to be lowered and my steps to move backwards, silently into the sinister background of night. The bulbs burst onto a flashing scene, mocking friends that pester me. In the shadows, that are now my ally, I watch, and I avoid to be seen as I recollect how I got here.
With a deliberate slow flowed step, I blended with the blistering gloom to follow a couple to be hunted. Down a narrow park path, a scarcely lit way, I stalked behind, watching the lovers from a stance a few yards away. When my heartached-instincts and jealous rage cohere they deceived my idle hand, “I cannot help but follow thy command.”
Leaving the lazy lamp lit lane for dim pastures, the hand-held lovers, strayed from the safety of the gravely trail. In my uncomfortable bleakness, these unknowingly lustful kissers fell into; an uncomfortable position to be stuck, with love and passion in the limbs of the night; but to pick a path such as mine to cross. “What better way to drop victim of the frozen hand of death than in the fiery arms of your love,” I voiced to myself in a misty breath.
A stones throw from my feet they took a seat, as I produced a silent cannon with a barrel as dark as the eyes I preyed with. Using a quiet sneak I placed my leather boot across the unsuspecting fool’s cheek. The crimson glimmered in the moonlight as I dropped the barrel in the breathless woman’s mouth muffling her hesitated scream instantly. While he squirmed in a cowardly way, I clicked a thick noise cocking the pistol’s hammer, nailing him to his footprints. I whispered, “You flee from your lover like no heart was ever involved, you take for granted the touch I’ve missed for so long.” I flicked my free wrist in a downward manner and he replied aptly, with a knee-bent stance he slumped to the ground. I instructed him to crawl and lie next to his terrified prize. “Kiss her,” I insisted. His face answered with surprise. “Place your lips upon hers and remain.” Puzzled their stares became and with a repeat of the verse in a more thunderous tone they complied.
With lips pressed, lying breast to breast, I laid the firearm to the back of his head. The look in her upward glancing tearfilled eyes was almost human, a look that seemed to ask me a question, “Why would you end us like this?” So I replied the inquiry loudly and directly to the open air, “If I were ever to be forced to meet my finish there is no other place I would rather be, than in the arms of someone who loved me.” Her fingers dug through his shirt and clutched tighter than their lips kissed, and tighter than the tears that streamed down her face. “I’ll give you to the night,” the last words heard. With a slight squeeze, a recoil kick, and a soundless boom, I placed round from back of his head and on through the back of hers, drilling a hot shell into dirt; I let them spend the remaining seconds in appreciation of a shared heart. Quickly, I disappeared into the frosty dark to avoid a flashing scene.
