It was a short night

The one whose face you cannot see,
Who comes in a pack of identicals,
Would you invite him in to your home?
Would you love him, are you radical?

The pack storms down the alley,
With their roaring engines,
And their spotlights wandering.

You cannot see their faces,
But are they equally scared?
Is that why they hide their faces?
Is that why they roam in packs?
Is that why they carry black snakes?
Is that why they dress in green?

If for you they were coming,
What would you do?
Would you be frightened?
Would you be scared?
Would you fight them?
Would you hate them?
Could you love them?

Helpless you sit in a room with others,
Peering out the window,
Trying to find out what the pack is doing out there.

Boom! Boom!

Huge explosion down the street,
The night sky lights up,
An anguishing second of gasping and fear.
Are you next?

The spotlight shines in your eyes.
Move away from the window,
The black snakes are looking at you.
Hissing… they watch ready to bite.

A flame shrieks across the street,
Extinguishing on the pavement.
Screaming and yelling.
But you sit there helpless.
Are you hopeless?

The pack rushes into the blue light doors.
After some noise and confusion,
They emerge from the blue light doors,
With a man dressed in white,
Hand-cuffed, and blindfolded.

The pack devours three others,
Then slyly they slither off
With their black snakes in hand,
With their engines roaring.

“This happens all the time,” says Ali.
“It was a short night.”
“This night was short.”