The Death of a Fly in the Library
A red couch with baked-in trivets.
The big black weary vagabond
lands breathlessly, unknowingly
awaiting its fated execution.
The green papered ax falls.
A silence echoes, which fades
into a malicious, yet
satisfactory giggle.
A small life stolen away
by a short-lived notebook,
pushed into the depths of grey.