Well, I guess I've forestalled tearing off this Band-Aid as long as I possibly can, but I have to admit that I somehow feel personally guilty for dispatching him! Good night, Mr. Pratt. *pets him* Sorry to do this to you. BtVS, S5, PG. Warning: character death. :(
Previous parts
here. Thanks to Mister Beta for playing haiku View-Master with me.
--
I.
Saintly mask transforms,
unveils her true countenance:
monstrous. Ravishing.
II.
Death is no lady;
when prim fangs shred William’s throat,
poetry fails him.
III.
Unmanful cries die . . .
rapture seeps through agony.
One thought more-Mother!
. . .
IV.
Graveyard dirt whispers:
sad little mouse of a man.
Recklessness ascends.
(part 8: fabrication)