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Rated: E · Poetry · Crime/Gangster · #1188002
An insight into the mind of Jack the Ripper before the terror began.
JACK

Echoes passing through the night like whispers in my ears
Perhaps a guardian angel by my side
Or something else that only but a few will ever hear
Do I face my fear or run away and hide

What if what they say makes sense, does that mean I'm insane
I'm sane enough to understand the words
Is sanity a haven for those things not understood
But to understand would words need to be heard

Direction seems misguided when you're led by the unknown
Is it justified to know the way ahead
People place their faith in unseen prophets everyday
Why then should I not believe my head

Some may say the righteos path is towards a bright white light
And some will float to reach the great abode
As the haze subsides the anwser to my path appears to be
On a dim lit, damp, old english cobblestone road
© Copyright 2006 Braddock (braddock at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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