The Assassin

Photo by Victoria Borodinova on Pexels.com
The Assassin

He died
in excruciating agony,
flat on his back,
limbs flailing,
choking with
each breath,
the toxin
burning his lungs,
each dying gasp
an inhuman noise,
a call for mercy,
a plea to me,
his killer.

This wasn't
just murder,
it was cruel
torture.
When I procured
the poison,
I gave no thought
To how protracted
and painful
his death would be.
I felt ashamed,
remorseful,
but then again,
I hate flies.

16 Comments on “The Assassin

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