A gasp for breath, <br />a silent moan, <br />burbled underwater tones. <br />My evil has of yet not shown, <br />but soon I shall be drowning Joan. <br />With constant pressure on her neck, <br />she scratches claws and tries to kick, <br />becoming underwater sick, <br />while wishing she were home. <br />My evil has of yet not shown, <br />but soon I shall be drowning Joan. <br />Flesh of pale to turn to blue, <br />flushing out all fear she knew, <br />something in this sick is true. <br />No tears for no more sadness. <br />Has of now she floats alone, <br />for I have finished drowning Joan... <br /> <br /> <br />*Posted with a special thanks to Janice Etienne*<br /><br />saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/drowning-joan/
