He walks the streets at night,
In search of justice and the light.
His footsteps echo in the alleyways,
As he seeks to solve another case.

The shadows seem to follow him,
A reminder of the darkness within.
His heart has grown cold and numb,
As he’s seen too many lives undone.

The streets are his home,
A place where he roams alone.
With a fedora on his head,
And a cigarette hanging from his lips, red.

He’s seen too many murders,
And each one leaves a scar that lingers.
His sense of humanity has been lost,
And his mind is now the ultimate cost.

He walks with a heavy heart,
Trying to make sense of the art.
The art of taking another’s life,
And the chaos it brings, the ultimate strife.

He knows he should stop,
But he can’t let go of the cop.
For he’s the only one who can,
Bring justice to a broken land.

So he walks and he thinks,
In search of answers, in search of links.
To bring the killer to justice,
And end this endless cycle of malice.

He may have lost his humanity,
But his sense of duty is his sanity.
For he knows that justice must be served,
And for that, he’ll never lose his nerve.

:: 04.17.2023 ::