" Blood Work "

Blood Work

Now if they saw the gleaming flash,
they knew it was too late
and with a single deadly slash
he'd guide them to their fate.

The edge he sharpened to a hone
with tenderness and care
and if they ventured forth alone,
the psychopath was there.

His heart was like the deepest well,
ice cold and black as night
and like a demon straight from Hell
blood work was his delight.

So once he cut their throat right through
he'd gut them just for fun,
and no one seemed to have a clue
to where he might have run.

But when the London fog rolls in
this monster goes berserk
and Death itself is in the wind
when Red Jack goes to work.

© Copyright 2009 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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