ode to a killer

I take my walk down these deserted streets
where shadows and lights collide
my steps are crooked and deformed are my feet
a penny for the beggars
or a cigarette, or a light

I take my walk, the small hours will testify
through suburbs of all and sundry
yet this path I can't bear
and would otherwise not dare
while such poverty and riches surround me

I cannot explain, the words I'll refrain
to suppress all the visions that haunt
but let it suffice, let them read me my rights
for this hatred I seek to exalt
this hatred I breed excites me

the touch of a hand, a glance from afar
is all that I seek to remind me
of love's graceful lance
blunted by my own hands
no more to hold and swing mighty
nor impale all of those that surround me

but these fateful hours will more than suffice
to right all the wrongs that have torn me
and spark the dark fire to light up a dawn
no more to be waited upon or dreaded
but dread what is my own
and bear the terrible burden that awaits me.