On His Train

In a cocoon of blankets, I close my eyes
Sleep draws near as the moon starts to rise
My playlist hums in my dimly lit room
My brain's swept of infections by it's musical broom
 
But then I hear the music cease
Heart beat rises as towards my iPod I reach
A set of eyes stare into mine
Standing still in the weak moonlight line
 
Under the covers I dive, my mind crying out
Praying they'll leave, although I surely doubt
I peek up, and of course, they're still there
Piercing my soul with a menacing glare
 
I choke on the words,"Wh-what do you want?"
A laugh rings out, a spiteful taunt
A figure steps out to the edge of my bed
Holding a silver blade that's stained with red
 
My ears are ringing, my vision is blurred
I try to speak, but it comes out slurred
With my sweaty palms, I pray for my life
Then gently, He touches my cheek with the knife
 
"Don't cry little one, for I'm here to deliver
You from this cruel land where your body still shivers
One swift slice, and you'll be on my train
Headed to my fiery domain"
 
Slowly crawling into bed with me
He smiles lightly as I try to plea
I am overcome by His strength and his wits
And through my throat, His sharp blade rips
 
Sticky red blood seeps onto my bed
Thoughts fade out from my weightless head
The scene goes black, I hear a ringing bell
Then, just as He said, I'm on the train to Hell