Murder Mystery edit

[Richard]

Hey CRNDLSM,
This poem has an intriguing story it. Once I got into the narrative, I was actually very curious to see how it would end. My biggest suggestion would be to think about the rhyming. There are spots where it works, but then there are spots where it seems forced. I'll give more details below.

Edit

Deadbolt the doors, the killer is coming.
Not that it matters, soon they'll all be dead.
Break-in the window while thunder's drumming,
no time to dodge a sharp blow to the head. -Does that mean he stabbed her in the head? Quite morbid when you think about it... I like it.
Quiet, but air conditioning's humming...
one more hour and the killer has fled. -Did it take an hour to finish the murder? If it did, I want another stanza about it.

Once the dawn broke, the neighbor went inside.
'Dead on the doormat,' describing the scene,
'Quite horrific, she was so young!' she cried.
Not a good witness, nothing compelling,
no evidence treachery was implied. -This is one of the lines where I feel that making it rhyme had a negative effect on the wording and meaning.
Breaks in this case were completely wiped clean.

Braking hard, roads wet, the Cadillac swerved 
one second too late for a head-on crash.
No trace was left, even the money burned. -Why was there money? I thought the killing happened because of spurned love.
Dead, the killer was now one with his cash. -I like the way this line sounds.
Not that it matters, detectives discerned
quite incriminating facts from the trash.

Quiet so as not to scare him away,
breaking-up tends to be motive enough,
not that an ex-con is prone to foul play,
one only hopes they'd avoid more handcuffs. -I feel like the rhyming hurts this line. Why is it needed to even mention handcuffs? I want a more creative image for describing an ex-con.
'Dead inside, dead to the world,' he would say,
'No way I ever could have done that stuff!' -Stuff isn't a very poetic word, but that is just my opinion. Again, the rhyming is hurting your overall impact.

Knowing full well he hired the assassin,
quite well aware he could go to prison.
Dead-ended life, the price for his passion.
Breaks won't come easy, he's unforgiven,
wondering who'll care, head-strong, he fastens
knots in the string, his silent admission. -I like this rhyme (unforgiven/admission). I also like "his silent admission" being used to describe his suicide. It's wonderful language use.

Not that it matters, since everyone died.
Notice the neighbor who made the first call?
One by one, all of the lovers she spied.
Quite content when she saw the bloody sprawl.
Break moral laws, whores are the Devil's bride.
Dead's where they belong, to hell with them all! -I want more from the neighbor's point of view. It seems to be a nice stark contrast to the narrator. May be you could break the poem into two parts. One part from the narrator's point of view and the second completely from the neighbor's view?

No one's suggesting the house was haunted,
quiet naughty influence, undaunted.
Deadly though, to break anyone taunted. -Again, I feel like the rhyme hijacked your meaning here. I've reread this stanza over and over again, and it just doesn't seem to have any impact to it.



Original

Deadbolt the doors, the killer is coming.
Not that it matters, soon they'll all be dead.
Breaking the window when thunder's drumming,
no time to dodge a sharp blow to the head.
Quiet but air conditioning's humming,
one more hour before the killer fled.

Once the dawn broke, the neighbor went inside.
'Dead as a doornail,' describing the scene,
'Quite horrific, she was so young!' she cried.
Not a good witness, there wasn't a thing,
no evidence treachery was implied.
Breaks in this case were thoroughly bleached clean.

Braking hard, roads wet, the Cadillac swerved 
one second too late for a head-on crash.
No trace was left, the killers body burned.
Dead with the money, everything now ash.
Not that it matters, the tables had turned,
quite a discovery was made in the trash.

Quiet so as not to scare him away,
break-ups with lovers are motives enough,
not that an ex-con is prone to foul play,
one only hopes they'd avoid more hand cuffs.
'Dead inside, dead to the world,' he would say,
'No way I could have ever done that stuff!'

Knowing full well he hired the assassin,
quite well aware he could go to prison.
Dead-ended life, the price for his passion.
Breaks won't come easy, so unforgiven,
wondering who'll care, he head-strong fastens
knots in the string of his guilt admission.

Not that it matters, since everyone died.
Notice the neighbor who first made the call?
One by one, all of the lovers she spied.
Quite content when she saw the bloody sprawl.
Break moral laws, whores are the Devil's bride.
Dead's where they belong, to hell with them all!

No one's suggesting the house was haunted,
quiet naughty influence, undaunted.
Deadly though, to break anyone taunted.

I know how challenging writing a rhyming poem with a fairly consistent meter can be. I went through a phase where I was fascinated with iambics, rhyming couplets, and sonnets, so I fully appreciate how much work you put into this piece. By the way, when I say a "phase," I mean I spent years trying to rhyme well. Keeping that in mind, my biggest suggestion for you would be to drop the rhyming here and just rewrite this rhyme free. I think the story you have here is interesting enough, but there are times that the rhyme really distracts from it. 

Overall, I enjoyed the story in your poem. However, I think you could make this story better by focusing on it instead of the rhyming. 

Keep writing,
Richard