Too Late - Mel Afoa

Shes up waiting, one in the morning,
looking at the clock, waiting for him.
She can feel his presence coming,
feel the desperation seep through her.

Shes still up late, and its nearly three,
still waiting for him to call, to come.
Paces through the dark bedroom,
hoping he will come through those doors.

Lying on the bed, eyes nearly closing,
she begins to start dreaming, bright moon night,
Three thirty, and his presence hasn't come,
dissapointment lying on the side of the bed.

She hears a noise, four o'clock on the dot,
and she investigates to see if he has come,
two minutes later she's bleeding and sore,
robbers robbing her house, robbing her heart.
　
He comes home, late from a night out with his boys,
and walks into the house, the moon illuminating his way,
he is greeted by the sight of his beloved, his angel from above,
dead on the floor, tied with ropes and knife plunged in her chest,
a note lying deadly next to her, her only company, companion,

Too Late.