A perfect picture of one’s life
A perfect answer to one’s crime.
In the deepest, darkest of the mind
The cruel, heinous, and unusual emerges.
The recesses of hate, anger, and fear
Dilate as the hands craft a sinister deed.
Creating pain and suffering—ending what could be great.
Days gone by with no answers at all
It’s done. I found you.
What did you do? Why did you do it?
Officer, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.
But what I’ve done is for me.
It’s not for you
For you are disturbed
You tell me and end this torture of many
I’ll entertain you.
One-it was dark
I took her
Her hand oh so sweet
Then moments passed it was over
Two-it was fast
He didn’t feel a thing
Three-that one was long
Perhaps a few mistakes
But my finésse made it work.
Was sloppy, that’s where I sought you
But a call to the world...
You see my work is art,
It’s patterns and styles.
But that pattern failed you, did it not?
If you may think.
See one is put down, another artist comes up.
If one is found, my work here is done
a knock on the window, a break in the thought
I’ll be back.
“You got him”
“How do you feel”
Uneasy, my friend
My dream job since my childhood
Fight back the evil
“And you are.”
Evil will always be here.