His skin is cold
His dark eyes are vacant
His smirk, once so evil, has faded
His hands are empty
Just like his thoughts
His mother wonders where he went
And why there's no more sound in her basement
And why no one comes to visit her any more
There will be no more blood spilt
Because the lunatic that was once so smart
Is now dead somewhere
As cold and lifeless as his victims
There will be no more laughs
No more Star Trek or Dr. Who jokes
No more bar fights
Or big dreams, made possible by intellect
There will be no more pain
No more torment
No more empty promises to a certain blond boy
No more jokes about a dark haired "friend"
No more corpses
No more bodies
No more…
Warren