The wind has blown so cold since her demise

Howling through winter skies

Hanging onto the thin threads left inside

He yearns to give her life

In the corners of his study (and his mind)

The answers he will find

Chasing dragons in excess he pines

For her...

He adores her dress and slowly drifts away

As a profound change and altered state he takes

Stalking in the night long shadows pave

For her safe passage to the prey

Unwitting "poor hoars" reeking of high pay

Who would miss them in any case?

In dark corners kept for sinful embrace

Each night his knife inscribes

His signature, a gothic font engraved

In them...

He discards the dress and dons a mask of pain

Shocked and in awe as his heart begins to race

Locked away he swears to wrong his rites

Each a blood drenched sacrifice

With a potion to bring them back to spite

And free him of the guilt knotting inside

In the corners of his study (and his mind)

The answers he will find

To unlock the secret formula of life

For them...

He abhors the dress with vehement disdain

Yet the Ripper's ruby kiss will rise to strike again!

At the toll of twelve he slips into attire

(Dressed to kill)

Fully risen and peaked, brimming desire

Veiled by cheap frills

This femme fatale prances deep into the night

Unaware of the crowd behind

Assembling on the horizon with vengeance on their minds

For him...

They cast his husk upon a stake then spark a flame

Engulfed in fire, ablaze, the Ripper's ruby kiss is tamed