Didn't you know that I was soundless like a bird? Your body on the bedroom floor, blood puddle, I am lovely and bringing bad news. I have a cureless contempt, smooth gait and a motion like dipping swans on the lake, it is the cheated-eyed assassin which doth wronged, my suspicious sun rises in red and orange ribbons, yours does not, you have death's blank and stiff stare.
Alas, a quiet day later, the unforgiving field grows wild with purple violets, you lay still on a bed of blackened branches, you are finally safe from me in your tomb.