.
~Dr. Black Angel's Memoir~
Inhumane living. Pogrom. Death is appealing
Startlingly chilling. Each sternum's revealing.
Bag of bones – Barely breathing.
A child dies. Smiles replace grieving.
Tens of Thousands converge. Each desensitized.
Inhabiting dirt that allows them to colonize
Overcrowding. Plague like.
Tens of Thousands migrate
Your city Irate. Hired crime rate
Failed middle class Job wage.
...Plague Like...
…
…
East London – Some Years Later
And God Said...
“Dr. Jack, look at this vile place.
My name's Forsaken. Forgotten. Disgraced.
Darkness Procreates.
My Body.
My light.
My chapel.
Disseminate.
Please, Fix This...Yesterday."
The voice clear. Fairly crystal.
Grabbed a map – Whitechapel – A beckoning sigil.
Overpopulated. Stench of disgust.
Piss filled streets teaming with sluts.
Liquor breath Stagger. Gentlemen strut.
Breast cupped. Allowed to. Passionless.
Lucky Jezebel. Slit and tits – Ration-less.
Midnight's kissing hell
Darkness segregated. Fondled until evil escalated.
Battered foreigners Propagate.
Serpentine tongues rot-away.
On a carrousel. Floating atop Devils Bay.
These vile people. I under exaggerate.
I can change it... All of it...
As of Yesterday.
...
I set in motion. Seductress' sings.
Her organs play a chilling symphony.
Precise Incisions. God-like physician.
Purge a soul removing sole ambition.
Pocket full of dreams. Mouth full of Genes
Valiant vagabond. Out with the spleen.
Disembowel...Disinfect
Transgressed, Necrophiliac.
Good riddance Darkness.
I'll carve light into your skin case.
Our first date was too great.
Soon East London Shall reshape.
And Whitechapel will be forever...
IN YOUR GRACE.
I promise Lord.
~Ripper~
Topic: The drums never stop beating in your head. Everywhere you go, you hear the drums.