The Tell-tale Heart

Senses made to acute by virtue of disease I've been watching these past seven nights To see the evil eye Though no wrong doing was percieved There is murder in my heart And the old man must die So precise in calculation must his execution be For so well planned and well thought out, I cannot be insane I must watch him every night to try and see the eye The moment must be perfect The last night I saw the evil eye A single thin ray of light shone upon it I knew my time to strike, in that moment He shrieked once before he never spoke again Methodically and carefully he was dismembered I cleaned the pieces of the corpse before their interment Under the floor boards shall be his final resting place Out of sight and out of mind But in the dark I can still hear his heart Under the floor, yet I can hear it beating The ringing in my ears, growing ever louder Can they hear it? Can they?