He took her way, looking like a dark shadow invading a bright spring day. She was little and bright, like a flower. The shadow grabbed her, pulling her into the depths of an unfamiliar place. She struggled to bloom, to get away... almost like a flower.
She looked into his eyes. They were dark and sinister, like oil on fire. They were empty black holes that absorbed any emotional, even abducting it.
She struggled like a flower stuck in a turbulent rain, trying to break away.Some one's child, a garden's flower.
He pulled the knife, almost seeming like a lawnmower to her, ripping the flower apart ending its life.
He ended her life, blood seeping, the color like a flower.
He may have ended her on the Earth, but her life wasn't over yet.
Her seed would be carried on... like a flower.