Bloostered in Whitechapel
a dark story
Jack was a simple man
Living life with a simple plan
Be kind to those around so they don’t suspect
Blend silently into the night so they don’t reflect
Embrace shadows as veils
And cover up your trails
-
He couldn’t help but savour
the frantic shaking and wails
It gave him ecstasy and quavers
until his nature prevailed
-
He chose his canvas carefully, among a swarm of potentials
He walked and stalked dreadfully, in his hand a utensil
-
She walked slowly wavering
in her hand a bottle
Clinking and clacking on the walls
echoing its emptiness around
Clothes doused in her chosen elixir
Vile drink, true, but without it, life was bleak
Memories of the day she had to keep discreet
Forever hidden and shut-
“Best 5 shillings I've spent, that strumpet!”
A man boiled as an owl pointed and talked
She threw the bottle at him and walked
-
Around a dark alley she hobbled and strode
Almost home now, just down this empty road
Suddenly, something glowed
She looked down at her throat
She could feel the coldness of steel
and behind, heavy breathing with zeal
Its edge pressed against her
while his face was concealed
-
A ting of crimson glistened that night
Down that one road in Whitechapel
A faint streetlamp swayed its flickering light
While jack down the road scrambled.
---
Author's Note: didn't come out exactly as I wanted it, but hey... we should always try new things
About the Creator
Mo Darasi
I write fiction, poetry and occasional articles about interesting topics.
Finding interesting ways to write a poem or hide messages within them seems to be my main interesting in writing now, and it's been fun
Comments (3)
This turned out so amazing! I love Jack! Hehehe!
It came out just right. Well done, Mohammed!
“He chose his canvas carefully”. So descriptive! Well done!