Killing Spree (Mind Of A Murderer)

** I can't sleep, and all that seems to be on TV are murder slasher movies so I thought I would write a poem. Morbid I know, but I'm bored. **
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With each and every kill,
He gets a thrill.
Adrenaline rushing through his blood,
As the bodies fall on the floor, "Thud"
With each and every stab from his knife,
Never washing the dry blood,
A collection of murders hidden away.
He has to leave a signature of the art he created.
"A flower? Not original"
"Words on the wall marked with blood? Its been done."
"Yes, I shall leave a picture, beside the body,
I should draw it the day before, it would be much quicker"
These people we're meant to die,
I do Gods work,
If there is one out there.
I am a messenger,
A messenger of art.
My murders I commit are beautiful to the naked eye.
With each stab of my knife,
With each kill I commit,
It shall always be a thrill.