The Killer

The killer stalks the darkened night My love is somewhere out of sight It’s not the time for me to show For all the hurt would only grow Unless the killer proves its trade We would run from all weave made The street is spectral, doors are locked Fears are armed and words are cocked The killer bends and runs its glove Through the sand of time and love The wind is still for all is calm Drifters silent in call for alms The killer wears a stunning mask A turned up snarl for every task Could it be its on the hunt For something that it doesn’t want Driven by a need it knows Only as a hurt that grows Every door is chained and creaks As they open, ruddy cheeks Whisper, “Who you want is dead, The killer and the groom you wed” Roaming on the streets of dreams Wakened by a widows screams In and out, that is our love Sand that falls from leather glove In deepened sleep the killer stalks Of plans and dreams and idle talk Beggars ask for chooser’s rights The killer stalks the darkened night The doors are gray yet opportune Each one will open for me soon It’s not the time for me to show For all the hurt would only grow “Goodnight my love,” the killer sighs And that was last I closed my eyes. Written June 26th, 2001 © on Jun 26 2001 09:50 AM PST   0 • 1