Like Gilles de Rais, you feigned innocence so well, although you were heads and tails above the other inhabitants of Hell. You watched with mock horror as Joan d'arc burned to a crisp at the stake, salivating as you fantasized about the next life that you would take. You massacred me without an ounce of remorse until the deed was done, then you wrung your hands in agony as though grieving the loss of a loved one or a son. Always a romantic, you saved my skull to keep as a twisted souvenir, Jeffrey Dahmer himself would be proud of how quickly you made me disappear. Like a skilled magician, one shake of your wand and I was gone within an instant, amplifying your charm, you convinced the audience that my name in flashing lights was just a misprint. Now follow me across the pond, where you gave new meaning to the red light with your silver knife, staying true to your idol Jack the Ripper as you sacrificed many ladies of the night. White chapel turned into Red brothel as it searched but failed to discover your identity that still remains a mystery, your cold case and flawless escape ensured that you went down in history. You fancied yourself a womanizer, believed you were irresistible to girls everywhere before you removed their hair, I would have sworn you were Ted Bundy, if he hadn't been a casualty of the electric chair. Although I fail to find the humour in your murderous and senseless killing sprees, you seem to find it funny that you can be held accountable for the reason why clowns can send some adults cowering onto their knees. Your contributions to society became null which each body that you claimed, wasn't it crazy, John Wayne Gacy when your crimes resurfaced as the killer coursing through your veins. Multiple murders were your downfall and your disease, you should have stopped when you were ahead, then perhaps you would have been spared instead of being condemned to join the rightfully vengeful dead. Copycat killer, your crimes were just cheap imitations that still surrendered your salvation. Rest in pieces never peace for the pain you inflicted on all of your innocent victims other than me, divine intervention will ensure that your suffering lasts in your afterlife eternally.
Time stood still for nary a soul, it dragged its feet, aching and old. Blistering heat that made us melt, we were once softer than silk felt. Hallowed hearts wind whistled through, covered in bruises, black and blue. Hardly broken, but maybe bent, running on empty and love spent. There comes a day in all our lives, when our failures cut deep as knives. But you shall remain a triumph, you stayed with me, like a science. Words were whispered, curses, we'd shout, until the blood drained from our mouths. Yesterday—softer than silk felt; seems like all we do these days is yell.
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