Looking at the shattered glass,
She felt magnetically attracted towards it,
Touched it as a fluffy cat,
Tried to pet it like a dog,
Picked up some of the pieces,
Refractions enchanted her while
One of the shards injured her palm,
A fine line, a bloody deep cut,
It formed on the page of skin
Where her fate was written,
Gore streamed from the wound
And she watched her own blood
Flow like a river,
As if it had charmed her,
The red shade of that vital fluid
Smelt like red wine,
Captivated her mind and
Dazzled her eyes,
Tears poured out of
Her windows to the soul,
Just as her blood
Ran out of her hand,
She saw her sister,
Freaking out and
“What are you doing?,
It must be hurting,
Let me put a bandage
On the wound that is
Bleeding like a fountain.”
Wiping away her tears,
Said she
In the voice of a werewolf,
“I’ve bigger wounds
On the source of this blood,
It doesn’t hurt,
Not anymore.”