The crisp pathway breaks underfoot
With the rapid, heavy tread.
Echoes bounce from the tenement wall,
Swirling around his head.
The nights’ cold air makes him catch his breath.
A searing, bitter wind
Blows through his limbs.
A night for fear, for death.
Searching the shadows for a symptom of life,
To ease his tension and pain.
A flicker of life in his dungeon of hate
As he screams out his murderers name.
Tearing the night with an unearthly cry,
A moment to cherish and treasure,
A time of remembrance.
A time to reflect,
On a moment of death-giving pleasure.