Sherlock Holmes isn’t an ordinary man,
Genius and cunning, in all the land.
Some say the best, some applaud,
Others say he’s just a fraud.
 
John Watson was a soldier once,
In Afghanistan, he fought for many months,
But he got injured and sent back home,
There he lived, jobless, bored and alone.
 
And finally Sherlock and Watson meet,
They live in a house, on Baker Street.
Together they searched, for a sign or a clue,
With every case, their friendship grew.
 
Wonderful story, fascinating at times,
Solving mysteries and solving crimes.
The hero of London, with a funny hat,
A consulting detective, quite good at that.
 
But alas, an end to the peaceful days,
A villain rose, from the haze.
James Moriarty, the wicked con,
And surely for Holmes, the GAME WAS ON.
 
They fought with their minds, charm and wit,
The perfect rivals, all else they’d beat.
On a rooftop, the final spell,
Who’d win, no one could tell.
 
But Jimmy had a wicked plan,
To show the world, he’s better than.
He took his life, let Sherlock make the call,
To save his friends, he’d have to fall.
 
But Sherlock had it all worked out,
To beat Moriarty in the final bout.
Two years later, he’s back in town,
If you’re a criminal, he’ll hunt you down.