Thursday 6 February 2014

February 6: The face of evil


Simon Gittany, he spewed out an army of fiction and lies from his head
But his once to be bride, could not give her side, how could she, after all she was dead
And deep down in his soul, where he had no control, he suspected her of an affair
A short verbal dispute, he then rendered her mute, her body he then threw to the air

Lisa’s life it was stopped, from the moment she dropped, from level fifteen of The Hyde
When the cops first arrived, they saw his story contrived, it was clear that Gittany had lied
They got the CCTV, and the police then did see, what a true monster this man really was
All his raving and ranting, all her screaming and panting, the violence it went without pause

While a man in the park, walked his dog before dark, turned his head to gaze way up high
What it was that he saw, on that balconied floor, was a body released to the sky
In disbelief he just stared, at her flowing black hair, and he watched as she fell to the ground
What he felt made him weep, right there in that street, and he'll never be rid of that sound

When they charged him with murder, he stood mute like a girder, no emotion was there on his face
And he continued to lie, as the months they passed by, and the Crown worked to build up their case
Then in front of a judge, he still did not budge, but his lies began to unravel
At the end of the trial, with the faintest of smiles, she said “guilty” and snapped down her gavel

As he sits in the dock, a girl dressed in a frock comforted by friends and supporters
Another believer in this viscous deceiver, short and sharp was her mood with reporters
“Please read the signs, between the lines", as she made her way into the court
“You should not deride, it was suicide", the investigation a farce, it fell short

He awaits now his sentence, but shows no repentance, defiance etched hard on his face
Throughout his whole trial, his continued denial, but the judge all the facts did embrace
His complete disrespect for her went unchecked, although in her friends she confided
Of his violent ways, she was bruised, she was grazed, but her loyalty was sadly misguided

They're pushing for twenty, and I’m sure he’ll get plenty, but life would be ten years too short
Had there not been a witness, out for some fitness, this murderer might never have been caught
But it is so chilling to me, to sit here and see, this new woman fall under his spell
But I am comforted by, what will soon be applied, a lifetime alone in a cell

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