a murder poem

I see a dark hearse,
The death toll is high,
It’s a terrible curse,
How soon until I die?

Dead people are buried,
In tombs for three,
Many were married,
With a happy family,

Their bloody torsos are now dismembered,
Their families are next,
They will not be remembered
The murderer is a vex,

He strikes one at a time,
Their death is slow,
It’s a terrible crime,
Yet he kills like a pro,

Nobody will live,
That is for sure,
A crime you can’t forgive,
I am definitely sure