Rose petals scattered on the floor

Limbs and muscles brittle and sore

Blood trickling down the staircase

Leathery and wrinkled is her face

Wisps of smoke fill the air

Already heavy with mournful despair

Her tiny heart is ripped and shredded

All her family is dead and beheaded

Life is only used up well

If it's good enough for a story to tell

So as her last breaths filled the air

No one was left to cry or care