A swirl of the coat
A flick of the hair
A trembling touch
A withering glare

The voice of a cello
Lowest of lows
By-passers admire
But not so of his foes

A soft dash of blue
He winds ‘round his neck
Curls of darkest hues
Gracing his head

Like all, he sees
Unlike all, he observes
Places to be
Mind tingling with nerves

A clap of elation
At the next joyful news
A series of murders
Something fun he can do

He hails down a cab
While his trusty companion
Leaps in without fear
Aching for action

Get out, he cries
Waving elegant hands
To his mind palace he flies
Formulating a plan

The gears are set off
The wheels are turning
The tides of his brain
Churning and burning

Nothing can stop him
Not when he’s intent
On chasing his target
‘stead of paying the rent

This man, he is great
But what about good?
Can others relate
To the darkest of moods?

High-functioning sociopath
Is what he insists
But what about psychopath?
Deep down, it exists

Back to restlessness
Back to shooting the wall
All a routine
Till the Reichenbach Fall