Jsyk, I wrote this poem at about midnight while thinking about what it would be like to be a serial killer. So, there is some violence, and if you cannot handle it, don't read. It's not very gory (not at all, really). I'm fine reading it, but hey, I think about being a serial killer. But anyway, Reader's discretion is advised.


He wipes the bloody knife.

She watches the blade

That took the life

of those who made

Their final sacrifice.

Her hands are bound, her mouth gagged.

She watches on in silence.

Her eyes dull, her shoulders sagged,

from watching all this violence.

Her spirit shattered,

her family now is gone.

Nothing really mattered.

He gets what he wanted all along.

He steps foward, knife in hand,

knowing what to do.

"All is going just as planned,

now all that's left is you."

He wipes the bloody knife,

filling up with woe.

So he takes his own life

with a final piercing blow.


Sure hope y'all enjoyed 'er! I'll try to keep my poems a little less maniacal........ unless you like maniacal.... >:D

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