THE NIGHT I WAS KILLED
“ inspired by my uncle who died in a similar incident”
By Elloyd Gilharry



I was about the age of twenty-five when I died,
it was the saddest day; I saw my mother cried.
The night was as silent as a church mouse,
I was drunker than the rum itself; I couldn't even see.
I was walking toward home when I heard foot steps behind me.

I walked faster,
it turned out to be a disaster.
I heard a “bling” the sound of a sharp machete cross my ears,
the only thing I saw after was my hand on the ground followed by tears.
At first I taught I was dreaming; I was in a nightmare
but realized it was reality and got scared.

There behind me was a tall man dressed in black,
I saw nothing else after that knock.
A bright light came down from heaven and a voice calling,
I taught it was the end of the world; the sky was falling.
I saw some guards by a gate in full white with wings and halo on their head,
then and there I realized I was dead.

A man was sitting next to the gate and said to me” you are not coming to heaven your are going to hell,
cause when you were alive on earth all you did was to rebel!”
Good bye my friend!
Its too late now,this is your end.