What's this? there are some voices
Footsteps in the hall
No one supposed to be here
Just the Reverend, that's all

Girlish whispers and angry murmmers
"We will kill him now"
He's done it to all of us
No more; and that's our vow

A dozen girls filed in slowly
Steak-knives and clubs of wood
Killer shrank back hiding
Should he stop them if he could?

Now memories came crowding in
His brother beaten with a belt
Killer; young and helpless
He remembered how he felt

He heard the cries of agony
The whimpers of disgust
Perverted laughs of pleasure
The pain of Uncle's lust

There was nothing he could do
His Uncle big and strong
Morning came and his brother dead
No one there to right the wrong

So long ago, he made a promise
When uncle Michael disappeared
Scum like him would be the victims
Killer's vengence would be feared

Long was the night
and longer still the shadows
I readied all for our wedding night
Eddie Styx is to be my best man
Should he take a night from stalking

The preacher, sanctimonious old goat died last week
So he shall be at his prime
The menu a feast to behold
served cold, as the road it was killed on

Lorraine, Lorraine I come for you this night
There on her balcony she stood
beautiful, warm and alive
This too shall pass

Now the silence is suddenly broken
as Killer's boots whisper on the floor
The reverend sounds a "heh" of satisfaction
"She's coming back for more"

"Who's there" he says, is it you?
Now you get yourself on back here
No one will know, if you do
You ain't got nothing to fear

A hardened hand grasps his throat
and another holds a knife
Little grunts escape his lips
and he struggles for his life

Lorraine,‭ ‬even her name
Is a tinkling of rain drops to my ear

Red velvet grown clinging to every curve in her body

The ebon hair exposing a delicate neck

Crystal blue eyes‭ ‬that glowed,‭ ‬radiating her beauty even more.

What caught my attention above all

Was the ruby choker with its three tear drops trickling along her breast

How much my eyes did see,‭ ‬they remind me of

A slash with it’s droplets of blood.

How I quiver at the thought.

The blood pounding in my head

Pulse raging out of control

Villages were sacked
Houses burnt, men killed
Boys and girls taken away
Tears poured like August rain
In Freetown and up country
Sa-lone, my motherland
Reduced to rubbles
Helpless populace displaced
We are now refugees

" Valentine's Day,
this world is out of kilter,
and they, they are more than deserving,
for there is no god, no woven magic
and everything is permitted."

He hadn't always thought this way,
before the fire it was ten years old
and all is well.
He could still hear his father's voice
from the foot of the bed,
" This night, we are the deserving".
Both parents consumed, his older
brother too, and him

The unblinking eyes of Killer
glazed with thought in the dark
Thinking thoughts of blackness
of the director of this park

Pre-teens are in favor here
he likes them young and tender
He's supposed to be a good man
Take care of this social-center

Now suddenly, the silence is broken
There are sobs of pain and shame
Whispers of consolation
to a child that will be un-named

Night-time stride beneath fair moon-light,
looking left, the ocean rocking,
breaks white sprays on hilly shores.
Endless wavelets course the docks.

Warring thoughts, something’s not right here...
Past the docks I spy some buildings.
Amber lights reveal a scurry.
Dream feet flight, I’m instantly there.

Hundreds flee, in hurried fashion,
signalling to trail their lead.
Dread is heavy, as a sickness;
can’t shake this feel we all may die!

The old ones were good at makin’ lives for themselves,
the back swamps of New Orleans
made some mean fuckers that never gave up.
They didn’t need those needles
or dead flowers to get by in the world
like the young today.