Run, run, run from the slowly setting sun.
Fade into the soft shade of forthcoming darkness.
Slip through the sliding side door and hide once more.
Stealthily daggers emerge for once again it's time to take to task.
Slickly sliding silently from side-armed sheaths.
So sweet when the razor-sharp red lines run.
Crimson incisions severed with surgical precision.
Pinpointing the mark of a seasoned professional.
Black pools spill in the moonless night waiting for Satan to come claim his prize once again.
Evil levied easier each time like a clockwork carnival and the task is done.
Frosty ice runs cool through callused veins left with no remorse as leaving and living without emotion becomes routine.
Just another day in the office of life left for death and keeping on course for calculated corpses demise.
(c) & (p) 2012 subconscious mind publication company
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