The Ripper

by Marillion

I scuttle darkness with a silent walk
of skin against the curtained skin of night,
revealing nothing as I prowl and stalk,
a killer gliding, hiding from the light.

I only crave the shadows, full and proud,
to shroud my skill for such eternity
that I submerge as deep as I’m allowed
and find (inside) that there’s no end to me.

I am the dusk, the dark, the heavy sky,
the vagrant in the lightless alleyway,
the whore on streets that gleam (when wet or dry),
the starving wolf that morning keeps at bay.

I am the god, the monster, newly-famed,
an inhumane reflection of a soul
immune to strictures, sullied and untamed
by institutions that would eat me whole.

I am the secret of the missing heart,
I am the beast that gores the hunter's back,
a black disciple of the killing art—
I am the stripped-down Ripper—call me Jack.

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Simple quatrains with an ABAB rhyme scheme in iambic pentameter. Just a poem about Jack the Ripper, from his perspective...possibly. Thanks for reading!

Artwork from Mr. Jones. Thanks!

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Jack

The Ripper

by Marillion

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