Night Butcher Poem by Armstrong Odina Ofora

As the Night comes
And the thick Fog Forms
There he lores
Sharpening his knives

Wearing a black mask
That's right for the task
With a red apron covering his muscular body
Wearing a black trouser and carrying tray on back

He doesn't need a front door
He will get into your corridor
making the dogs heart tremble
As he slices it up

Leaving it's dead body in a tray
Putting its owner in Disarray
Not knowing how he got in
Only knowing
They got invaded by
The Night Butcher