He would have you believe him and trust him implicitly
but the cut of his cloth hides the secret within
His tainted soul, disguised by his bleached white tongue
that fools the fool and tricks his own blood kin.
Haunted by guilt and his harrowing dreams
he seeks out the innocent, untainted and pure
He draws them in ink and paints them in deepest black
infuses his poison, slain swiftly and sure.
With no sign of a grimace nor a smile on his lips
with emotions like charcoal, hot bitumen and tar
His eyes scowl and glint like the blades of sharp knives
Leaving a wound and so jagged a scar.
He feeds on the danger and is brazenly villainous
is out for the kill though there is no parole
He’ll never know solace and he’ll never know peace
as the devil has stolen his mind and his soul.