&
has the wickedness passed sight?
concentric swirls batter unstoppable horror ride,
does one jump to escape,
or
hold pressed hand upon chest & wait?
such laughter stings by lips of fate;
plunge knife already if you portray true reap,
bury steel beneath skin deep,
scatter mine pieces afar
& leave nothing tidy nor neat -
ringing ears wish not another word for one's blistering tone to speak.