Scodwretch
one cold night in a snowing city
shutters closed to the flurries flight
one dark shadow watches from the corner
what does he plan for tonight?
soft footfalls in the snow that settles
the clink of bottles in a shifting sack
the stomp of horses and the swing of a sign
and the swish of a cloak heading ‘round the back
one more swig from a bottle stolen
one more bite from a larder’s delights
one sharp knife from a counter taken
once more in the hall staying out of sight
up to a door with a lock so sturdy
quick with a click it gives up the fight
one sharp stab in a spine that’s sleeping
and another and another in the dead of night
the scream of a man not long for this world
and the dreams interrupted of the neighbors by
out through the window the figure hurried
followed by the chill in the townsfolk’s cry
harsh footfalls in an icy alley
barrels overturned as the chase gives rise
but nowhere in the streets and nowhere in the trees
could anyone find where the figure hides
down at the docks a man drinks greedily
one last bottle, his grisly prize
nobody caught him, none suspect him
Scodwretch hides from everyone’s eyes
one cold night in a snowing city
one warm fire in a hearth alight
one sharp stab in a spine that’s sleeping
one more crime in a wicked night
