Read Poetry: The Bane of Whitechapel, by Lee A. Forman

 A mystery unsolved,
told in missives of blood.
From Hell he stalked
on clandestine nights,
in the hush of silent streets.

The bane of proscribed escorts,
violator of sultry prey.
With surgical mutilation,
victims splayed unhidden;
guttural lacerations
with innards to behold.

A savage aspiration,
the impetus of death.
Remembered for the carnage
and a letter to the law.

in history he sleeps…
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