"Bashed to the head
By a blunt cold wrench."
The inspector concluded:
"It's Howard Bent."
No bullets were spent
At home he went
His trousers were wet
"Fear for his life, he felt"
Hid under the bed
A scratch over the forehead
"My god what a mess,"
The servant gagged and left.
Suddenly up overhead
A piano played in clefs
Swiftly we paced, upstairs we fled
A sibling of his: it's William Bent.
"We were told you were tone deaf,
But played the piano well?"
The Inspector interjected,
As William went ahead.
"Dear brother, hello
have you taken your meds?"
Upset and dejected I said:
"THERE'S A DEAD MAN DOWN THERE"
"Good evening Mr. Bent,"
Said a calm voice downstairs
"Have you finished with your toys?"
It's my lovely: Rose Taylor-Bent.
"MY DEAR GET OUT OF HERE"
I screamed, with sweat I'm drenched.
"William, grab his hand!"
A needle pierced, it bled.
Somewhere out of nowhere
As I slumber and dreamt
Enters a man painted in red
A figure approached and wept
"I thought we're playing?" he said,
"but why did you hit me instead?"
"BECAUSE YOU'RE ALWAYS AHEAD"
I scorned violently to the dead.
"But I am you, and you are me,
It's me and you, together, we're free!"
I looked through a mirror
And then and there I faced horror.
A man with no lips, no eyes, no nose
I woke up and hurriedly arose,
Facing the face of my dear Rose:
"My sweetest, my love,
don't leave me no more"
As I gently stood
A mirror I took
To my face he stared:
It's Howard Bent.
2023