by Edward Alan Bartholomew 

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Spinning, spinning, madness winning

Psychopathic thought beginning

Butterflies to catch for pinning

Spinning thoughts inside my head

To twirl the net and bring it down

To trap the beast unto the ground

Its screaming terror'd not speak a sound

I stick the pin and pin it dead

Its writhing, grabbing on the netting

The sounds I wouldn't be forgetting

The tapping, flapping, clapping, fretting

Gradually slowing to a stead

A cold and sweating, mad reaction

I sense the tingling satisfaction

And this is surely just a fraction

A fraction of the blood she shed 

My carriage wheels had quickly turned

The case at court was now adjourned

So early home I had returned

Returning to my home ahead

It was a cold and somber morning

When I first received the warning

A beauty carriage, now adorning,

Standing still at my homestead

Curious, I stepped out and gazed

Its presence there left me amazed

Then I saw my dogs were caged

Cold and outside, barely fed

Gingerly I climbed the stairs

And pondered what'd await me there

And then, this sight, this dark nightmare

My wife and brother in my bed

My curiousness then turned to strife

My temper flared against my wife

I silently retrieved a knife

To turn her lusting into dread

I chose to kill Paolo first

I stabbed his neck and watch it burst

His silent death increased my thirst

I watched the bastard as he bled

Suddenly, my wife awoke

The bloody mess caused her to choke

Her agony, in me invoked

A sense of anger, sorely red

She stumbled, falling on the floor

And tried to scramble to the door

She looked so sad, so low, so poor

So shameful as she crawled and fled

I pinned her down, still writhing, grabbing,

My knife was quickly, sharply dabbing

As my hands were cutting, stabbing

Stabbing her from overhead

When she was still, I calmed at last

Yet vengeance soon would have me cast

To Caina, treacherous and vast

But it was done; Her blood was spread