To be alone sometime at night,
To watch the dying, fading light,
To escape to a swift flight,
To avoid the death, but not the fright.
I’m the one reports often ignore,
I’m the one who still knows the lore.
I’m the one who watches all the gore,
Always chilled right to the core.
When the crime scene’s been carefully mapped,
Sometimes I wish I was the one stabbed.
It’s just my courage that’s been kidnapped,
The rising fear that can’t be capped.
I can imagine the bloody red,
I sort of just envy the dead.
They don’t have to live with the dread,
I’m a bystander, take me instead.
The silhouettes of a humanoid
Still send me plummeting into a void.
I can’t help being paranoid,
When death’s a circling asteroid.
Somehow it’s worse to stand and stare,
Than to be the victim, in the snare.
But watching, waiting, standing there,
When to help one cannot dare.
When the rippling blood has softly stilled,
Sometimes I wish I was the one killed.
I’m not brave, and I’m not skilled,
For the rising fear that can’t be filled.
Those who’ve lived and those who’ve bled,
I sort of just envy the dead.
They don’t have to live with the dread,
I’m a bystander, take me instead.
Wondering which one will be next
To be printed in the news’ bold text,
Eventually starts to make one vexed,
Frightened more than just perplexed.
To watch the murder, hear the screams,
Will continue to always haunt my dreams.
It’s worse than one initially deems,
It’s much, much worse than it seems.
When the crime scene’s been closed inside,
Sometimes I wish I was the one who died.
I just feel like my hands are tied,
The rising fear leaves me mystified.
And now I regret having fled,
I sort of just envy the dead.
They don’t have to live with the dread,
I’m a bystander, take me instead.
-Vivaan Tripathi
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