I'm going to try and write a whole crime fiction novel using poetry. Here's the first chapter..

The moon glistened bright,
high up in the night sky,
only the killer himself knew, that tonight,
someone might die.
He was a troubled soul,
always consumed with vicious spite, why?
The killer didn't even know,
he just sat and watched the nightlife..

The first drops of rain fell down from the clouds,
but his mind was truly focused, of his craft he was proud.
He looked towards a noise, it was a woman talking loud,
and he could picture the moment, all the blood on her blouse..

He sort of got aroused, and knew that she was the one,
the one that he would murder yes the one that he would con.
So he walked himself towards her and introduced his name as John,
then he stabbed her in the neck, stole her purse and he was gone..

The woman she was dying as she lay in the dirt,
with a slash across her neck and a blood stained shirt.
Why was she attacked? She was only walking home from work,
she just couldn't understand why anyone would cause her hurt..

Was it worth it for the money that was taken from her purse,
as 'John' would later ponder, is that all her life was worth?
He couldn't help himself though, he felt his cravings getting worse,
oh why had the devil even given him this curse?
Derranged from birth..

© Ashley (urb4npo3t)