A young lad

There was once a young lad, cloaked in mystery,
He always stayed in the shadows, no one knew his history.
His face was always covered, his eyes shielded,
No one knew the secret he wielded.

The secret so destructive, it could petrify the bravest heart,
He could outwit anyone, no matter how smart.
His movements were fluid, his presence chilling,
No one knew how he earned the shilling.

He never removed his hood, a shadow cast upon his face,
Running from him, was a lost race.
In the dark of the night, on the street he prowled,
Whenever near him, the hounds growled.

Once a man well past his prime,
Did the mistake of witnessing a crime.
He stood frozen as he saw the ornate dagger,
Taking hasty steps, doing his best not to stagger.

Little did he know, he was spotted,
Moments in his life were counted.
The old man was never seen again,
He lay in a dark alley, his throat slain.

There was once a young lad, cloaked in mystery,
He always stayed in the shadows, no one knew his history.