It was a late night a man was standing on an old brick bridge
lighted by the moon he was looking down at the calm choppy water and was humbled by the way it moved
he wore a jet black suit a white dress shirt and an old wrinkled black tie
he looked up and was mesmerized by the beautiful sky
he saw all the stars cause there were no city lights near to cloud this wondrous sight
he could make out what appeared to be some thing much like the northern lights
turquoise and a dusky purple filled the night sky
a gentle delightful cool breeze crawled up his spine
he took a deep breath of the clean crisp air and exhaled it in sync with the calm blowing wind
he closed his eyes momentarily to hear the sound of the swaying trees
listening to the sounds of the shaking fall leaves
he took out his pocket knife and opened it with ease
he whispered to himself what a beautiful night to die
he looked back up to the sky and with his knife sliced his jugular
while continuing to look up at the sky he began dancing with the northern lights
like an artist painting his shower of blood began painting the bricks
after a full few minutes he fell to the ground right next to his knifes blade
he saw it shine from the moon light and could see that the blood on his knife was practically black
unlike the red you would normally see during the day
and before his final breath with a single tear streaming down his face
he said once more what a beautiful night to die