‘Twas a murky, drizzly night
Droplets fight for pavement sight
As they pack themselves up tight
Right as rain, rain as right
And the rivers with their plight
Swirling ‘round the streets all quite
Lit with street lamps, lamps alight
White light pouring forth despite
Rivers running at their height
Leaving room for light a mite
Like a salmon gone a flight
Inviting night go on, invite
Such a character to spite
Trouble, trouble, so outright.
Dark a figure comes a calling
Down the streets, the rain is falling
As the character is stalling
Stalling, stalling seems a hauling
Heavy burdens fit for brawling
Crawling with his limbs out sprawling
In rivers, roads appalling
As the creature keeps his hauling
While the winds keep up their squalling
In the vicious winter storm.
Like a lover weak with lust
Trail his fingers, walks of dust
Thrusting up and up he thrust
Up from off the road and thus
Taking with him winds a gust
With his wicked grin as crust
Hair a pulling in disgust
Nearly mad in way he cussed
As he threw himself robust
‘Round and down the road in just
Just adjust the rules a rust
Rusted crusted, caked with trust
And he shatter it a bust
Shatter, shatter trust to dust.
Ne’er a night so dark outdone
As this one with none a sun
Should a sun arise, not one
And the character does run
How he runs, his task begun
Murder burden like a ton
Night inspiring his fun
All hope undone, unspun
For the innocent, a gun
Fire true, one by one
Rivers seize not that to run
Lights a imitating sun
Pools of lights a burning shun
Shun the character who run
Black his head does too make fun
Of the light outside his one.
The brain of him is freezing
Thinks the victim’s pleas a teasing
As their pleading is appeasing
His uneasing mind diseasing
As the breeze just keeps on breezing
Breezing as his heart is seizing
Would it rot before it’s easing
Wheezing, wheezing, die not easing
And the streams are all a sneezing
As they vein the desert road.
The chore the fiend has swore
He would sore and strain his roar
And the score the man had wore
Was the proof the task he bore
His dark suit covered in the gore
In the gore up from the floor
And the man, the gore, adore
Running, clad as in décor
Washing blood, and blood galore
With the rivers from before
As the drizzle cried a for
The lost soul the man ignore
As he swore upon his core
He would down the street explore
For victims, blood, for more
There wild would he implore
Implore for more and more and more
Of the flesh he felt, he tore
What horror lies in store
For the victims, for the poor
One can guess and nothing more.