Every time, not just occasionally, but

every time I hear of a senseless death

at the hands of a lunatic,

the ones who believe they are

an avenging angel of death, of retribution,

of dark black clad mindfilled with hate

reckoning bathed in their own

self righteous haze,

I think of you.

 

It is bad enough you haunt my dreams

that I dare not sleep at times

because I know you will

come to me like a lover scorned,

Poe like finger shaking as the rotted corpse