Darkly Dreaming Dexter

For as long as I live
My heart will be too empty to give
Anything else but material thing
And although my face seems to sing
Soul is emptier than a simple ring
An emptiness that surrounds my being

Dark clouds above my head
Every time my Dark Passenger is not fed
He won’t hesitate to come into my bed
Just to get his piece of death
He demands a flood
Of that sticky, ugly blood

Dark Passenger must be fed
A new victim must be found
Knife will spill his blood over the ground
And Dark Passengers voice will once again ring out in to the night
Justice is once more pleased, and so is my fight
Another “bad guy” disappeared of my sight

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poem by Masha Marojevic
Added by Poetry Lover
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