thinking of you again

when the fresh moon replaced the tired sun for the night shift, this is when the thought of murder entered my mind. during the last storm, i was counting the distance between the thunder and the lightening, this is when the thought of murder entered my mind. i was alone by a river, listening to its heavy flow, falling into a dream, forgetting why anything mattered and wandering through the corridors of my own disillusioned mind, i tell you, there was murder in them halls, behind those doors, from the en-suite bedrooms, under the bed sheets, through the foyer and down to reception, the only thing received was disguised as redemption.