The Duke

The Duke

I killed all these people,
All but one so cunning.
The dead are coming to get me,
Wanting revenge for the lifetimes never spent.

I keep running and running,
Down and down away.
I slip away in the foggy night,
No sight or sound, nor traces found.

My punishment is due,
At the places that began and ended a lifetime.
From Whitechapel to Spitalfields
I slip away in the foggy night,
No sight or sound, nor traces found.

Eviscerated then stimulated,
No outcry ever heard.
They were all a living symbol of sin.

I am a professor in disguise,
A doctor to despise,
Because of cutting out hearts.
A duke to be cured
Of eating so many tarts.