Dead man

Seventeen hours since the flame and I last spoke—
Guilt hits harder than the rain on this Honda hood.
Radio hums low, then flips—static to a ghost track,
Like the night rewinds my sins, no words, just crack.
Pencil in my palm, sweat on the wheel—
Officer Mathers knocks, badge cold, eyes black steel.
“Step out,” he growls, tug like a chain—
I stab once for life, he fires three in pain.
First shot—left shoulder, fire blooms red.
Second—right, I roll, third grazes the dead.
Blood pools under me, vision blurring gray—
“Phoenix… if you’re close, don’t let me fade.”
Flame walks through fog, wings molten, laughing low—
“Look down, fool—your shell’s still leaking slow.”
I rise, invisible, over the wreck I made—
Couple screams, phones flash, but my cries? Just shade.
“Mathers! Murder in blue!” I yell to deaf ears—
They pray, they run, never see the ghost right here.
Phoenix smirks: “They’re blind to the dead. Walk.”
Footsteps silent, concrete cold, no talk.
Hooded shadow waits—Death, voice like rust—
“You stabbed first, kid. Justice? That’s dust.”
I glance back: body cooling, lights red-blue spin—
Then chase the fire, leaving my skin.
Radio fades, only embers crackle now—
Seventeen hours… and I’m already gone.
No pulse, no name, just flame and regret—
Rising from ashes, but never quite set.

One last glance—
I pause at the corner, breath gone, no echo.
Back there: hood low, sickle glinting under red-blue flash,
Death just… stands. Over me. Over the red slick pooling like spilled ink.
He doesn’t speak—yet. Just watches, patient,
like he’s got all eternity and I got none.
My body—still warm, still mine—twisted wrong,
shoulders torn, pencil clenched in dead fingers.
Sirens wail closer, but the hood tilts—
almost nods. “You stabbed first,” his voice rasps, wind through graves.
I feel it in my ribs, no lungs left to shiver.
Phoenix already faded into dark, laughing trail.
I could’ve run. Should’ve.
But I look—really look—at what I left.
At him. At me.
Then I turn.
Flame flickers ahead, calling.
No more words. No justice. Just steps.
Into nothing.
Fade on the hood—still waiting.

Male versatile melodic rhythmic flow ride beat. Cinematic story