Crime of passion

Urgency dictated to him that someone might want to warn
neither of the people involved brought him
running at full tilt down the way. How could it be borne
exactly one more time? Such a mistake, so grim,
could find one of them with one less of a limb,
ideally against this, or so he was sworn
preceded each step as he found himself at the door.
Rushing inside, he hoped he wasn’t too late,
opening the door revealed one woman inside
caressing the knife as though it might guide her fate
away from the lady on the floor, who tried
to move no longer. No longer could he wait,
ending the strife before she could sate
destructive passion which led her to harm rather than adore.

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