Jack the Ripper

Dark and Desolation 
With some creation 
A man dressed in black 
Who rarely shows his back 
His darkness shows 
What few men know 
He smiles as he walks 
Whistles when he stalks 
He will gift you and whisk you away 
So later to be found in a couple of days 
He uses his brain 
To think up this pain 
Who is this he that no one ever sees 
So blind without their eyes 
That they can't see they will die 
He follows them home to bed 
Knowing they will end up dead 
He cannot be found by mere Feds 
No one will find the real Jack the Ripper