A woman runs along a lane,

There's no other sound she hears.

Why did she leave the safety of the light

And run towards her fears?

 A cloaked, dark man follows her,

Unseen by the rats and the whores.

When she stops running he approaches her,

This woman he adores.

 This woman can't see the danger

In this man, the man of her dreams.

He gives her drink and precious grapes,

But not all is as it seems.

 He looks at her with masked hate,

The fifth of his victims, his sins.

In his mind he laughs at their screams,

Their twisted, frozen grins.

This woman smiles, a tinkling laugh,

She is blind to her imminent death

Until the razor sharp blade and blood are drawn,

And she breathes her final breath.

Jack the Ripper stands over her,

Removing her organs when her life has gone.

He thinks ahead to his next victim,

The next whore, the next one.

Copyright © Catriona Elizabeth Mowat 2007