Z..I the Surgeod

A blaze of blue
in the haze of dark night,
a victim of the road
twisted metal, laced with blood.

She lay there.

Her beautiful body
promised her heart,

She clunched that morbid
credit card, in her beautiful fist,

How can I take it?

The most precious thing
ever born,
child of my eyes,

kin of my seed
Birthday gift made you bleed.

Solid hands, tremble,
and they lose thier grace
as I look down,

AT

My daughter's face.