He was walking home on Saturday night,
Quite blotto, so thought it best
To leave the car and go on foot;
Not take silly risks like the rest.
But one of them left moments later
Blind drunk, so failed to see
A lone figure stumbling along
The dark country road past a tree.
A bright red flash was all he saw.
He barely felt a thing
As car and tree violently collided
With no more than a muffled ping.
He felt quite dizzy and a little sick
As he staggered to a grassy verge,
Then watched the commotion feeling detached
As two worlds began to merge.
He saw the blood and guts sprayed over
Both bonnet and Oaken limb
And in between the broken body
Of someone who looked like him.
Decidedly uneasy, he drifted across
To the throng who'd gathered around
The impact scene, though their efforts were futile.
Too much red was engulfing the ground.
'What happened?' he asked a bystander grim
Who ignored him. He felt annoyed
So he tried to grab her by the arm,
But his hand encountered a void.
Seriously disturbed, he began to shout,
'WON'T ANYONE SPEAK TO ME?'
But to them, it appeared he'd ceased to exist.
Yet himself he continued to see.
He wandered around in a daze for what could
Be days, weeks, even years.
Long after they'd cleared the carnage away,
He was trapped there alone with his fears.
So in desperation he thought his way home,
To discover the house was packed
With family, friends - everyone was there.
Was this some kind of party in fact?
But he wondered why they all wore black
And deep sadness hung in the air.
He rushed to his wife for comfort, but she
Seemed unaware that he was there.
The frustration he felt was soon cut short
By the arrival of limousines black.
As they all piled in, he squeezed between
His parents in the back.
It was the strangest sensation he'd ever known.
It seemed he was real, they were not.
He could clearly see them, yet couldn't touch
And he felt neither cold nor hot.
At the crematorium he perused the wreaths,
Wondering who had died;
Then found himself thrown deep into shock,
Believing his senses had lied.
For over and over he read his name
And messages from the heart.
How can it be me in that coffin there?
He thought, as his Soul fell apart.
Then sudden dazzling light descended
Through the stained glass window above.
It engulfed him until he could no longer see
Or feel anything but pure love.
Slowly the light formed itself
Into a tunnel that sloped gently up.
And his grandparents came - it seemed quite normal
That they offered him tea from a cup.
As he moved towards them, the cup disappeared
And they shot through the tunnel at speed.
It seemed they neither ran nor flew:
Were more like wind-borne seed.
Euphoria engulfed him at the tunnel's end,
In a garden of celestial hues,
And he recognised at once that he was home:
Had shed all Earthly blues.