Tony Bush Poet Verse

Killer In the Rain

There is always a killer standing in the rain, 
a disciple of doomsday who drip feeds on pain; 
there is always a killer with pistols and knives, 
a maker of widows from once happy wives. 
As the dreams turn to clay which the rain sweeps away 
  the killer just laughs 'till 
  he cries. 

There is always a killer standing in the rain, 
his hands never free from the blood crusted stain; 
there is always a killer who suckles on hate, 
a bringer of shadows, a dealer of fate. 
As the dreams turn to rust which the wind strips to dust, 
  the killer just laughs 'till 
  he cries. 

There is always a killer standing in the rain, 
embracing diseases and driven insane; 
there is always a killer who plays out the rope, 
allowing enough for a false sense of hope. 
As the dreams cut to Hell in which nightmares excel, 
  the killer just laughs 'till 
  he cries. 

There is always a killer standing in the rain 
who whistles a theme tune that snags in the brain; 
there is always a killer with animal eyes 
and charisma of evil embellished with lies. 
As the dreams turn to clay which the rain sweeps away, 
  the killer just laughs 'till 
  he cries.

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