The Man Who Lost His Soul Poem by Saad Qazi

Let me tell you of a tragedy
in which I lost my self and soul
They would've called it armed robbery
but it wasn't only money I stole

Thinking of some easy cash,
I went out late at night
Maybe it was a little rash,
but things at home were running tight

Before I left, my mother said
'Don't be out too late
It's dangerous and times are bad
so you better not tempt fate'

The sky was dark, the night was cold-
almost everyone was at home
Only the foolish or the bold
had dared to venture out alone

I made my way to an alleyway
where I watched the people come and go
How long I stood there I cannot say
just pretending to be a shadow

It was hard to keep away from sleep
and my eyes were begining to sag
I was just about to take my leave
when I spotted an old lady with her handbag

I followed her but with great unease
and into the old alley she went
She stopped and turned and yelled 'No! Please! ',
then stood there-old and bent

My gun was made of solid steel
with a sinister metallic sheen
In my hand it had the feel
of a beast-wild and keen

Under the light of the stars and the moon,
she fixed me with a motherly stare
She held out her bag, and not too soon
As the night was giving me a scare.

As I made to grab her bag
she punched me in the nose.
She then kicked out my leg
and jumped down hard on my toes.

I freaked and made to run
but slipped and hit my head
She ran ahead and grabbed the gun-
She wanted to shoot me dead!

She said 'To hell with your lot'.
Then pointed and took careful aim
Before I ever heard the shot
I knew life would never be the same.

I saw her blood stain the wall,
I felt her scream fill the air.
'Help' she began to call
before wailing with despair.

The bullet had ricocheted off the ground
and hit her in the neck
She lay with blood all around
and strolled on old Charon's deck.

I made my way back to her side
and was very much surprised
I was sure she must've died
but somehow she had survived

I reached out to hold her hand
and knew she wouldn't last the night
I tried to make her understand
She said 'I'll give death a fight'

I sat down and then we talked
as my clothes soaked up her blood.
All the secrets she had locked
she released almost in a flood.

We talked of when she was a little girl,
her mom and dad- and of thier death,
of what she did and what she learned
until she drew her final breath.

I sat there for quite a while
-till the night had reached its end-
thinking of her dying smile,
and her bloodied purse in my hand.

Drenched in blood, I walked back home
through the early light of an empty dawn
thinking of what was to come
and what was left for me to mourn.

And today, after all that I've got
is nothing compared to what I have lost
And this, I will swear to you
that although I never heard her shoot
I have felt each echo of that fateful shot.