After the murder, after the death, only ghosts left
lurking inside, waiting for explorers to try & read
the riddle written in blood on the doors and floors,
also the ceiling in certain rooms where a deranged
stranger still holds sway, a cold-blooded murderer
Relishing in detectives trying to unravel the riddle
that sent many a policeman to his death – these
events are invisible from outside, come hither –
all curious sightseers, try your luck against the
killer with his maniacal laugh, he killed the man
Who stood between him and his love, he did not
know she had already died pining for her lover’s
return – he came too late, his remorse at having
forsaken her before, drove him mad and led him
to kill everyone he found inside, so come away
Friend, ‘ere his laughter also turns your hair grey
[With special thanks to my friend Ronel OReilly
whose excellent photo inspired this poem]
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