The Talented Mind

Skin growing cold
Body on the floor
Not a drop of blood in sight

Pulse is faint
Almost gone
Soul taken to an awaiting Heaven

Sliding the knife
Around in circles
Murderous hands hold

Mind so clever
Dangerously ill
Not someone easy
To decipher

Never caught
The killer was
He had his fun
With thirty bodies

And not a single slither of evidence ever was found