She was a minister’s daughter,
And a sociopath.
She had no conscience to speak of,
Nor a fear of God’s wrath.

People called her the devil’s child,
In whispers, through the town.
Suspecting murder was the cause,
When little brother drowned.

And as the years went slowly by,
The girl grew more depraved.
In time, even her father knew,
Her soul could not be saved.

On the day she left for college,
The town let out a sigh.
Relieved that, while she was away,
Nobody else would die.

But that was not the case at all,
For campus socialites.
That peaceful university
Turned deadly over night.

She met a boy just like herself,
A lad without a soul.
They terrorized that college town,
Killing without control.

Together they lured victims in,
Seducing every one.
They offered a ménage à trios,
A harmless bit of fun.

But the fun turned into slaughter,
A brutal massacre.
Victims were eviscerated,
By these murderers.

The killing spree went on for months,
And many people died.
Police could find no evidence,
No matter how they tried.

The two just seemed like normal kids,
To everyone they knew.
Intelligent and popular,
Nobody had a clue.

And then, one day, the killing stopped.
And order was restored.
Not because the kids found Jesus,
Instead they just got bored.

A suspect had been arrested,
As the two predicted.
And the evidence they planted,
Got a priest convicted.

So they went on to practice law,
After graduation.
The promise of wealth and power
Was their motivation.

This led them into politics,
With new paths to explore.
They left more bodies in their wake,
Than they had done before.

And when he ran for president,
A nation fell in love.
For he could charm like Lucifer,
When he still dwelled above.

And as his term came to a close,
She was prepared to run.
Eight more years of this deception,
Meant sixteen years of fun.

History would remember them;
Not as vile miscreants,
But as humanitarians,
And noble presidents.

But justice caught them in the end,
No crime was overlooked.
The Lord saw everything they did,
And every life they took.

And on the day they met their fate,
There was no joy, or cheer.
The only sound from heaven’s gate,
Was that of falling tears.

Tears cried for those who lost their way,
And stumbled from their paths.
For daughters, sons, and presidents,
For the sociopaths.

Every deed has consequences,
And justice will prevail.
No matter what you think awaits,
Beyond death’s misty veil.

Tweet

Comments on this poem/writing:

Click here to read other Poems by Mark Spencer

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.