The Art of Killing
Shouting your name as I feel the pain
that overtakes my mind.
Enough no more, I kick down the door,
approaching from behind.
You cheat; you lie, so now you die,
removed is your backbone.
You scream; you kick, physically sick,
your colors truly shown.
She’s here you know, to watch the show,
to see who will prevail.
She watches, waits; she glares, irate;
the hammer to my nail.
So now it ends, the blade descends,
with you bent low on knee.
I stand with pride; the smile, I hide
for I have just killed me.
(This is not a suicide note, but instead a symbol in that I'm killing the old me in order to change.)
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Worthy of merit and my appreciation will be hitting the rep button. 
Knowledge Talks, Wisdom Listens. 
