He closed the door,

and on the floor,

were rose petals, white and red,

the pillow still impressed

with the shape of her head,

rich draperies covered the bed,

the room was lit only by candles and firelight,

the moon was the only outdoor light,

the covers of the bed turned back,

intimacy lingered in the air like a swarm,

with her sheets still warm,

the scent of a woman lingering in the room,

he sensed the desire,

as the wood was popping in the fire,

her clear blue eyes stared

into the lined angry face,

she was still holding on to her grace,

then reality came back to him with a crash,

everything lit up in a flash,

driven to voice his deepest fear,

as the home invasion was much too clear,

he had murdered the husband

at the bottom of the stairs,

and murdered the young wife,

without a single care,

as the perfume of her hair

and the warm female smell of her body

made this crime too much to bare.