A killer lurks in the shadows - A reverse poem


Kill the woman


I won’t let him


stop me.


Nothing in this world can


help her


The time is near. And I am going to go


through with it.


The shadows hide my presence. I am


her. Vulnerable.


I draw my weapon. I see


My moment is now


I am a killer


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this in February 2015, but never did anything with it. So, having stumbled across it once more, I thought I should release it to the world. Like a dove.

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I just wrote a thing in the buss on my way home.

To enjoy the dead 

and hate the living

to be awake in bed

and never offer a giving


Poke your eyes out and hear

Every rock is screaming

                  be it far

                            be it near.


Crying while you take out

the blade from her chest.

"They made me do it!

    I'm weak!

He will kill menow

cause she told him to 

or she will die from his left hand

cause his right was cut

off by a righteous man

who fought for a woman

who never loved

after she was raped 

by the pastor

when she prayed 

to be free

but the pastor had taken 

more pills than

his mortal God

told him to take."


All that ends in hell

started in Eden.


You cry as I cry.

You don't see me 

as I see you,

but you can smell me.

You don't know that the smell is mine.

It just reminds you

of the home

you had

when you were a baby.

It reminds you

of your first love,

of your wife,

of your dead child,

though you never knew her,

it reminds you of


and that makes you cry more and the guilt is tearingyour ribs and your own breath is suffocating you.




I'm sorry. I'm sorry. 

I'm sorry.I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.


I can't forgive you.

A Serial Killer [Story]

For the past few days, the people of Sylhet are spending sleepless nights. How can they relax when the news about the serial killer is in the media frequently? Almost everyday a person is getting killed and the method of murder is the same- the victim is crucified at first and then his heart is taken out while he is still alive!

          The police are at work around the clock. They are leaving no stone unturned in order to arrest that psycho. The government is encountering myriad criticism from home and abroad. It has been seven days since the killing mission began and still there is no clue for the police to reach the murderer!

          The city-dwellers are alarmed and at the same time fed up with the police department. They think that the administration is good for nothing. Some sensible intellectuals have suggested for taking foreign help in this regard.

          Today is Sunday. At 2:30 p.m., another dead body is spotted at Kanishail just near the Surma river. The place is rather bushy and a street urchin has seen it first.

The investigators are of the opinion that the murder must have taken place during the night when silence was prevailing. It goes without saying that it is next to impossible to commit such a brutal act during broad daylight!

          As soon as the bad news reaches the media, the journalists rush to the place like bees. Obviously, the dead body is hanging on a cross. The place is soaked in blood. Panic seizes the inhabitants once again.

          The dwellers do not know who the psycho’s next target is. A great change has occurred due to serial killing. After 6 p.m., the shops are closed; people hardly roam around since they realise that the serial killer comes out and does the heinous job at night.

          A sort of ghostly milieu prevails all over Sylhet. The police are dying to arrest the culprit. They keep on assuring the media of upcoming good news soon but the words seem like a mirage to the listeners.

          Another corpse has been discovered from the hillock at Khadim. The place is a bit distant from the heart of the city and is beset with natural beauty. The killer has particularly chosen this area since it is serene compared to other localities.

          Ten people have been murdered already. Among them, two are females, and eight are males. There is no clue whatsoever but all the victims had one thing in common i.e. ‘fair complexion’! All of them were extremely fair.

Now, the police are quite sure that the killer is a racist. Perhaps, due to his inferiority complex, he has been continuing such viciousness.

          Whatever the reason may be, none can be certain unless the killer is detained. However, the days are heavy to the dwellers and the nights are sleepless.

The next day presents another heartrending incident before the people. A dead body is found on the roof of a three-storied building at Ambarkhana. The corpse is seen first by a maid who goes to the roof to dry the clothes under the sun and screams sharply as she goes back to where she comes from.

          It is a male’s dead body. Half of a knife is still inside his heart. Surprisingly, his complexion is dark! The police deem rather strongly that this is the serial killer himself. Perhaps, he has committed suicide. He stabbed himself but could not take his own heart out.

          The police have also found a small piece of paper inside the dead man’s left pocket where the words “it must go on…” are written.

No one understands what the words really indicate. After that day, none is crucified again. Normal life returns. The tension vanishes from the minds of people like magic. The police are still alert of any imminent unexpected occurrence.

After fifteen days, five people are reported to be missing. The police consider it a kidnapping case. But, those five missing people’s crucified bodies are found at five different places of the city the next day!

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Latent Prince





Part I of II



This is the story of Larry Joe Prince

And the way Arizona stole his innocence.

It is written with hope that there may come a day

When a wise judge will grant him his moment to say

All the things so conveniently left out of court,

Made American “justice” look more like a sport,

With a high-priced attorney that didn’t think clear,

And the false testimony of one with much fear,

And the state prosecute thought “I’ll surely reach fame”,

He said, “Hell, I don’t care who the state wants to blame,

It’s a paycheck to me; I don’t care about truths,

It’s my ego I feed, I’m a low lying sleuth!!”


So they all drew their “guns” on that guy Mr. Prince,

Absolutely no shred of secure evidence,

They proceeded to send him to death row to sit,

For the murder of one that he did not commit,

And the biggest and worst sin of all that was done,

Was the way that the people held on to their “guns”,

They embraced all the lies to evade what was clear,

As revenge prevailed justice with each little tear,

And for those in the grave who just watch from above,

With no longer a voice to teach them that real love,

Is not proven by putting the blame on a man,

Just because he is there….cause the courts and you can,


See the proof of one’s love speaks out so very clear,

Even after the grave when one’s body’s not here,

You will hear their soul cry, and you’ll then know for sure,

If they’re resting in peace or they’re haunted some more.


There are families that hide from life’s reality,

The dead man in this case begs you hear his soul’s plea,

Make amends for the errors you’ve made in the past,

And put down all those stones, and those already cast,

If this dead man could speak he’d have something to say,

Of the circus that ran through the courtroom that day,

And if not for the dead man then do it for you,

Cause we all have to answer to God what is true,

Larry Prince knows he’s clear and he wins either way,

                              Cause he’s INNOCENT judge, the state’s in disarray.                                

So please read all with care on this day we implore,

Please don’t look at this life as a game where you score,

It’s integrity that is of stake in this court,

And it’s not mine or yours it’s this country’s that’s short

Of a quality no longer active today,

If it dies, it’s the lives of our loved one’s…they’ll pay.

Take your time, read it all, and be true to your heart,

And we’ll all pray it’s not too late for a new start.



Part II of II



They all loved cocaine but they hid it from Dad,

He just couldn’t believe that his kids could be “bad”,

So his eyes he did close, and they stayed tightly shut,

While his best offspring died with that stuff in his gut,

And they said, “It was murder”, and placed the blame there,

Yes, it’s true ‘bout that bullet and blood in his hair,

And the roots of that crime have been hidden so well,

By the real guilty ones with the lies they did tell,

For those self-righteous ones that just stared and stood by,

And condoned this deceit without batting an eye,

For the cowards that watched as the killers went free,

Be aware this could happen to you or to me,

And your sons or your daughters could one day be led

To a place where they wish they would rather be dead,

So now don’t be afraid to let truths in your ears

When your children are hurting with eyes full of tears,

Don’t you cower or shudder, don’t whine and don’t wince,

And remember the story of Larry Joe Prince.


Written in parts, from 2000-2002

Original Copyright 2002 

Registration Number / Date:

                   TXu001112792 / 2002-12-02




07/21/13 ©



Author's Notes/Comments: 

The story of how justice can go awry when emotions rule instead of justice ruling.



Malevolence *Mature Readers*

Volume Three


“You're a downright creeper,
welcome to my nightmare, as I take you even deeper
down, down the rabbit hole, In the end not even god will want your soul”

Hey you,
Yes you. I know that you beat that little girl down,
wrapped her bloody body and buried her in the ground.
As you whistled your sorry ass back to town.

Hey you,
Just let me get my hands on you,
and I will teach you something new.
Suffering is something you only thought you knew.
Welcome to my horror show, your nightmare now made real,
Now I will whistle as I slowly stalk you through the field.
The suspense, is a killer. Every brutal second you will feel.
You did not expect that I would sink to your level,
dumb ass did not even know I am evil.
For I have embraced the monster inside,
It became as easy as shedding your pride.

Hey you,
I saw that man you beat to death,
pleading to you even in his last breath.
Then like a coward you ran, leaving him to die
and to everyone you breath as easy as you lie.

Best lock your door, drop to the floor.
For the beast is back and hungry for more,
could not quite grasp the beauty of the last attack.
For I will be the shadow over your shoulder,
I will be your doubts, that haunt what you are even about.
The fear that will consume you, as you start making mistakes
tripping on the paranoia, lets raise the stakes
If you make it out of my trap alive,
I'll finish you slow with my dull knife.

“The fool who plays the jester in the lions den”

“Which way do you go? Each direction leaves you in my pull.
My prize you may ask? It is your vary soul. The high stakes
game, where no one survives, no one gets out alive.
Now this is where you drop to your knees to pray,
crying for someone else to come save the day.
Let me lock you in my dungeon, headed straight for the guillotine
In the age of decay; Beauty is obscene

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I had to go to a vary dark place for this piece, and honestly do not believe I came out the same on the other end..... I finished this sonnet last night, however decided to hold off from posting it till today; for a few reasons but the main one was that I had to reflect on this one. Because this will not be the last from this set, (even though I had decided to post it in my Third Volume.)

So let me know what you think....

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