Devil of the night
The silent wind ruffles the collar of a wanderer -
A shadow that's hunting through the night.
hunting for souls, the unfortunate ones,
that stray away from the safety of light.
Will the knife taste blood tonight?
And will the glove smother the cry of pain?
Will the pavement happen to have a corpse tomorrow?
Will the blood be running down the drain?
The scent of smoke travels through his brain.
Knowing that the organs of his next suspect, becomes sustained.
The thoughts of his knife, slicing.
He puts out his next plan
For no one to understand.
His mind starts to tremble, for the thoughts of his next kill.
The moon darkens as everyone stands still.
He continues his night, with not one suspect in sight.
His hunger continues, down drips the blood.
He walks through what he knows he could.
The thirst continues, his knife is sharpened, he only sees red.
Another suspect passes, will he end up dead?
He followed his prey with lithe strides,
oh blood! sweet blood! that's what he strives.
Came an alley dark and lone,
the boy whistled the devil's tone.
Pushed his prey to ground, grated the soft throat.
The blood inside did bloat,
spilled out from throat.
The moon spilled light on the gagging face.
'Brother o brother' the hunter shrieked.
and tears of regret, they rolled on his face.
he wept for a moment then glutted down the meat.
For he'll have his regret at the advent of light.
But for now, he must serve the night.