A brilliant man a polymath
but nonetheless a psychopath
Who thought he had the right to kill.
His reign of terror just begun
He killed his victims just for fun.
To exercise his sovereign will.
He terrorised the city streets
with his all too frequent repeats.
He seemed to need the added thrill.
Of being caught quite possibly.
and so he was eventually.
Or he would have been killing still.
He saw his hobby as an art.
Something that would set him apart.
And he was right it did until
he chose a victim to attack
A victim who could fight back.
a lady who possessed great skill
She was a martial arts expert
Though she intended him great hurt
She made quite certain not to kill.
He spends his life in a wheel chair
Complaining that is was unfair.
He had a quota to fulfil.
Although he is strictly confined
in a cell specially designed
Definitely not run of the mill.
To hold this twisted genius
aware that he’s still dangerous.
His one ambition is to kill.
The heroine that broke his back.
He lives and relives that attack
I have no doubt he always will.
I don’t think he has realised
the fact that he is paralysed
He cannot walk and never will.
Poetic justice some might say
to keep him safely locked away.
Who calls the tune must pay the bill.
Tuesday,08 December 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem