Lost ( poetry)

Murder

At the Truth Mansion

The suspect is at large

The killer lives in my Heart

Another night time

I tread this path again

In pursuit

Of these footprints and clumps
Of blood

In circle, I wander

This path keeps leading back

To me

Cresfallen,

To Heaven I pry

For the wrong I've done
A frowning face falls

From beyond

The place I once knew there

Is gone!