The Night Walker

He walks the streets late at night
no intentions of a place to go
the silence of the late hour engulfs him
who is he, does he even know?

Rage embroils him, but he has no clue
why it's always like this at night.
He walks through the streets, looking for what?
He has no fear, he has no fright.

He sees a person walking ahead
a fog enters his head, then he is gone.
Just like every night, as before
he will never know what he has done.

Every night, or so it seems
the sirens wail for their plight
A body lying in the street
A mangle of flesh, a horrific sight.

The truth of the crime
will never be found
some people believe,  the guilty
lies buried in the ground.