Past midnight… The air has chilled. It is perfect,

Lest sleep attempts to slow me down. But would it try? To

Ease me away from my corrupt absolution? Why? Not even

Angels from either encampment dare come near me.

Silence is my only co-conspirator,

Especially in this un-godly hour…

Ha, but there is where I err, for I am far from alone!

Enter and see for yourself! See my city’s inner and unspoken wish

Loquacious in voice, as it’s inhibited hand strikes my shoulder approvingly

Pests!” It tells me. “Rid of them all!”

My soul is fair! I assure you, she knew it as her disease spreading shell was ripped

Expelling her soul free for its past due poignant cleansing in purgatory.

–o–

London’s fog it’s now clearing, exposing it’s polluted stage

Opposite my precise work, both pale as the moon.

Verses! Verses will one day be heard about the “Shepherd of the night.” But Alas!

East I head, as my operating is done for the night, my prize in the sack

Meat is just meat, until you see where it’s incised from, and you baptize its flesh

Earth is being brought to balance. Night to night, a soul at the time…