Bloodstained, broken car window, glasses shattered on the seat, earring torn from its nestled lobe.
Murderous mind descended on the helpless victim and left vicious marks.
No restraint from the court order.
Although, the clue so obvious.
But justice is oblivious until the dagger turns too deep.
The corpse thrown into shallow grave with dried crimsons flow.
The longest year dances a daggers ballet, a vagary simultaneously drawn bent and twisted, and held by hands, which do not seem to belong.
The dagger twists into the depths of the heart, leaving the daylight then returns to twilight.
Another horror visited upon the gracious.
Loved ones mourn the moment of the bloodthirsty attack.
She will never come back to her father, her mother, or her siblings.
After the funeral and the longest year has past.
The fictional taunt us not to look away from the morbid.
But what can we disguise?
Rocks of ages shattered reversed centuries formerly from bellowed epitaphs. "An eye for an eye," now, said as if under one's breath.
The longest year will be many more for the perpetrator of the dagger's ballet.
Civil libertarians perform his legal delay.
And this state of confusion justice will betray her again; he will avoid the syringe.
At the sight of her death, that shallow grave.
A lone raven struts like a judge he hops from edge to edge
It's might is muscled beneath purples shimmered plumage.
He listens, beneath the sacred soil, and hears the usual profusion of helpless bleached misfortune.
That raven should pick at the bones of the murderer after her father was done with his worthless putrid soul.