In shadows cast, a figure stands
The mighty figure's thoughts run so fast
Racing rivers of deceit, forever to last
His eyes show no sympathy for the cries of the person who was going to die
Cold calculation, a heart of stone, where mercy goes to die
He adds the money and subtracts the lives
Accounting for souls, in his ledger of strife
All with a knife, his counts go high
Each life a tally, in his gruesome tallybook sky
He goes and ties a rope within, he kills the hope that subsiding them
Silencing screams, in a darkened whim, where freedom's final thread is thin
His mind so twisted, whoever he saw were never existed
Erased from reality, like shadows from his twisted wrist
He ends this story with a protruding twist
Leaving readers stunned, in a maze of darkness, forever to persist
The crime unsolved, puzzle dissolved, the time wasted for the case of the psycho,
Little did they know this case was from the future,
By then he had already won his wicked race

© fiéry