Night falls, London shrouded in fog.
The white cloud hides a killer.
A tall dark figure looks and nocks;
A fair maiden. Brews a fever.
A glimpse at the tower clock.
In the frosty midnight hour,
He starts to stalk.
She knows nothing; see a kind sir
If she turns but she only walks.
The beauty, relentless of her,
Strikes him as if to taunt and mock.
Soft footsteps on the cobble, now quicker.
He closes the gap; he also sees white chalk.
A flurry of action and sound, a blur.
She turns, a shimmer of silver,
She reeks of shock and fear. Trickster!
Her hope is but a glimmer.
A plunge, a second, a third to be sure
The fire in her eyes burns dimmer
While his, glow brighter.
A demented caper,
A captured lover,
By Hanford 11C