A sweet, thick scent of blood hangs in the air,
small drops dripped upon the stair,
creating simple splatters along the floor moldings.
A struggle covers the room floor,
with holes punched through the door.
Bristles of wood and shards of glass
re-carpet the entire area.
Many an option for weapons hang about.
The gun on the mantle could take anything out.
Or the knife on the table nestled neatly
beside the coiled rope.
Eight o’clock strikes hard for the time.
A strike of a match drops fast on the line
and lights up any evidence that lays within
Whether intended, or not.