Telltale Shot
Christa Belle
Lying in bed
With a gun to my head
I am slumberless
Memories seep into fathoms of deep
Disillusionment
Pillow of red
Futile thoughts never said
It's all gone
Take it away
This sadness
And pain
Heart grown cold
Through tales of old
Funeral feast
Bringing violent beasts
To the parlor floor
Fortune and fame
Will not be quite the same
It's an open door
Nothing to give
Nothing to get
Make it stop
Did you hear her
Pull the trigger
Never knowing
Blood was flowing
Down
Poetry page
Showing nothingness
And rage
Death is my home
Where I shall roam