Through the Eyes of a Killer

3 Comments

Poem Commentary

i made this quickly, doesn't seem that great to me...

Through the Eyes of a Killer

It was a nice night, cool and not bright

A perfect night for a stroll or a walk in the moon light

But not for I, tonight I have a mission

To hoist myself up into newspaper fame and fortune

 

My targets, inside this house of ancient time

Surrounded by a steel fence, and so I begin my crime

So nimble, I climb and hop the fence so quiet

And out comes my knife, as I move in closer to my targets

 

I see two of the four, in the living room

Chatting during commercials, not expecting doom

Another, his shadow from the kitchen

His shadow on the floor on his cell phone

 

The fourth, asleep? Well, let’s find out

Slowly I pick the lock, listening for a shout

Success I’m in! Quickly I shut the door.

I sneak toward the kitchen as I hear a “Whore!”

 

With a thud, I see the cell hit the counter

His eyes on the TV with a sigh, now begins the slaughter

Sneaking slowly and quietly up and behind

My hand over his mouth and his guts are slit outside.

 

I drag him backward my knife sliding between his ribs

His eyes dull, and the strain leaves his lips

I set his body down, there’s too much blood to hide

The two in the living room making loud noise as I turn a blind eye

 

Time to find the other, I start searching through the house

My ears sharp for a sound as I tip toe quieter than a mouse

And low and behold, my search prevailed

Upstairs a toilet flushed, his location revealed!

 

Quietly I sneak up the carpeted stairs

My hand on the door knob, anticipation in every hair

I feel it turn, I push hard on the door

I throw him back startled to the floor

 

Quickly I come in, the door shuts behind

And now another target is trapped with me inside

I tackle him, quick to land a blow

Stunned and confused from my hit to his head, it’s easy now

 

One small swing, and his throat is cut

Blood filling his lungs, my hand tightly holds his mouth shut

Soon he isn’t moving, now for the two downstairs

I walk down the stairs and into the living room where they still yell cheers

 

I duck down behind the couch, my next target to die

Quickly is spring out with my knife through his eye

The other one yells, and he pulls out a gun

Just as I dive back toward the stairs, he shoots at no one

 

I sit there and wait, counting bullets in my head

10, 11, 12, now he is dead

One swift move, I jump over the couch

Just as he’s reloading, my knife slices through his crotch

 

With his arm pinned, and my knife to his neck

I whisper my little secret threat

“Remember the girl, on the night in October?

The one your boys drugged then raped her?

 

Well, she happens to be an Assassins daughter

and I am the Assassin, I am her father”

with that testimony, I push the tip of my knife deep into his neck

the blood spraying like a river, he is sick

 

“To hell with you all, damned be thy name

Return back to hell, for hell has souls to claim

I am the judge and executioner, by blade I kill

For the righteous, and the condemned I won’t stand still

In the name of god, and before the jury

Witness the power of holy divine fury

Forever eternal, as long as there’s an early casket

For the holy ones judgment, arise the Assassin!”

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Viper89 commented on Through the Eyes of a Killer

03-23-2011

Sound like a 2 shows I like called "Dexter" & "Criminal Minds" if you combine the two!!! Wicked Man Truly Wicked!!!

EvilPoems

04/21/2011

Im, wicked to the heart, and to the soul my friend, but if you REALLY wanna rerad something wicked, check out Cold Crow the Slayer

WingedWolf commented on Through the Eyes of a Killer

01-16-2011

This poem absolutely blew my mind! It gave me the impression as if I were the one holding the knife. Stunning ~10

cutbanksam commented on Through the Eyes of a Killer

01-06-2011

Wow! Quite a powerful and well thought out poem. Really chilling as well. Heavy stuff. Wow!

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

Unknown Source

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