Poem of a Killer

The night wanes on and someone stands
Stands on the corner, blood on his hands
The cover of darkness is ever-opressive
It hides yet another man, wishing to live

The hands of the first man are covered in red
The hands of the other are lifeless and dead
A knife is still missing, the blade is still sharp
It's not going anywhere, lodged through his heart

Yet he was not first, nor will be the last
The Killer of Fathers has a long, bloody past
Know that there will always be much more to come
So pray for your loved ones, yes, for every one.