He strikes a match, and in the glare

I see the madness in his eyes.

The home-rolled cigarette in his mouth

Is ill-rolled. No surprise.

He whispers in a hoarse, old voice

Of things out there to watch for;

Tells me ways to protect myself

And things to avoid, like the locked door.

The smells of this alleyway assault me

Or maybe the smells come from him

His gray skin sags, his eyes bloodshot,

His hair’s falling out and he’s thin.

Finally he gets to why I’m standing here,

And the answer isn’t good…

It seems I’m going to die tonight

In this very neighborhood.

I push the man down and back away,

Stride out of the alley and onto the street;

If tonight’s my night to die,

It means my life is complete.

I feel no fear, I feel no sadness,

I feel no joy, I feel no pain.

I’m curiously numb at this late hour

With millions of memories flooding my brain.

I hear a footstep behind me somewhere,

And calmly turn to see who’s there.

A blow to the head brings me to my knees,

And a kick to the stomach leaves me fighting for air.

My hair is grabbed, my head pulled back,

Exposing the lines of my throat

And that dying old man spoke into my ear

As he prepared to slaughter me like a goat:

“I told you ye’d die tonight, old chap,”

He gloated as his knife dug deep,

“And when you pushed me, I saw why

You earned the fires of the Eternal Sleep.

For have no fear, you’re going to Hell,

And that is where you belong.

May God strike me with lightning here where I speak

If anything I’ve said has been wrong.”

I closed my eyes and awaited the pain,

And the fire the bastard said was coming,

When I first heard a sharp crackle behind me

And then a high, intense humming.

The grip on me loosened, I was free,

And I turned again to see what was.

What was left of the old man was on fire

And he stood bolt-straight, and emitted a buzz.

Lightning had struck him, then, I was safe,

It wasn’t my time to die tonight.

But suddenly a Voice spoke unto me:

“My man, that isnt quite right.

You are dying as we speak, if you didn’t know,

You’re like the fade-out of a song,

And you ARE going to Hell, I’m sad to say…

But that isn’t where you belong.”

My emotions flipped over and over again,

And at last all I was was confused.

“If I don’t belong there, why am I going?

That makes me feel so abused!”

The Voice actually laughed at words so petty,

And this is what it said to me:

“You stupid fool, you’re paying for ME!

Letting me live while you pay for my sin!”

And all at once I wish I could just

Wipe away his exultant, annoying grin.

There is no thought, I do it quick,

His angry scream echoes in vain,

I grab a shard of glass from the mouth of the alley

And begin opening every vein.