A half-eaten piece of cookie consumed the sun,
With the sky stained by silver glitter,
In the wake of dark is this story of mine spun,
I warn you, brace yourselves for it will make you quiver.
My tale begins in a quiet London neighbourhood,
About a man who went by the name Jonathan,
Although a Coroner by means of livelihood,
one could say in every sense he was a Metropolitan.
I have dinner with a fascinating lady tonight,
Where shall this be taking place I asked,
In the frosty silence of my chambers for her delight,
Filled with wine I did not suspect his words were masked.
Little did I know that his mind was in warps,
His chambers the morgue, and his lady a corpse.
Adesina Aanuoluwapo John - 2015
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