when the fresh moon replaced the tired sun for the night
shift,
this is when the thought of murder entered my mind.
during the last storm, i was counting the distance between
the thunder and the lightening,
this is when the thought of murder entered my mind.
i was alone by a river, listening to its heavy flow, falling
into a dream, forgetting why anything mattered and wandering
through the corridors of my own disillusioned  mind, 
i tell you, there was murder in them halls,
behind those doors,
from the en-suite bedrooms,
under the bed sheets, 
through the foyer and down to reception,
the only thing received was disguised as redemption.