The Dead Speak

I go by the corridors

Of the dead.

Bones, broken parts are all that's left

Of them.

They speak, those parts

In a way no one can

They know my secret

Nowhere to run.

This is the real me

These bones know

The living beings around

Just see me flow

With the tide.

They think I'm one of them

But the bones know the truth

The real Dexter

Society cannot tame.

Will they hate me, the humans?

When they see me killing?

But ain't I cleaning the trash?

A service for the community?

But I don't kill to protect.

I am no hero

Blood thrills me

I kill to live

The dead bones, the body parts look at me

I know what they say

'We know your secret'

I say, 'Shhh'...

But they might love me, those humans

When they see I kill only bad guys

I might be able to walk in sunlight

And be cheered upon by them...

I see a vision

Where there is light, no more darkness

People complimenting me

For killing those "bastards"

And I think: "This is what it must feel like to walk in full sunlight, my darkness revealed, my shadow self embraced. Yeah, they see me. I'm one of them In their darkest dreams."

P.S: My second tribute to Dexter.