Eerily the moon shines in blue black skies

Candlelight cast a glow to dampened rooms

Milk white creamed maidens slept peacefully in quarters below

As the howl of the wretched wind shattered the stillness of the air.

Ink stained hands poisoned the crisp sheet of words past

Thoughts gathered somberly in mind

Spilled out haphazardly on white below:

 He is not who you think he is

Bloodied leather aprons and the Canonical five...

Candlelight flickered in stillness

Silent screams penetrated the air

Fear impregnated her body

As confession of the mind bear fruit on paper:

I know who murdered the Whitechapel prostitutes

"Saucy Jacky" and "From Hell" he wrote....

Ink hovered worriedly as she searched the dark

The pounding of blood hungered the man in the shadows

Her white dress drenched profusely in sweat

Scented the scattered letters on mahogany wood

Five times she confessed her sinful knowledge

Five times more she prayed for his soul.

Wife of the Ripper should have known better

As she holds the key to his murderous heart

Such betrayal of one loved required death to preserve the mystery

No one the wiser would connect the sixth death to the five

Her dying breath snuffed the candlelight glow

Blood red married poisoned ink on crisp white

Confessional letters borne out of fear held the truth

Now lost letters buried in mystery and rectitude.