Dying...

Blood on his hands,
Yet no feelings of remorse
He tries to speak
But his throat is too hoarse

He laid her dying body
On her warm bed
With so many thoughts
Racing through her head

She was like an untouched flower
Lying there, silently crying
Not knowing that he was
The reason that she was dying

Icy cold fear runs
Through his veins
Yet the impact of what he has done
Makes him want no change.