A night for lots of country music fans
Almost at an end, the headliner on
Twenty some odd thousand they say
Many were crowded around the stage.
One among them was very high above
On the 32nd floor of the Mandalay Bay
Looking for his form of entertainment.
A lunatic loose with a bunch of guns.
He had tuned many for automatic fire.
His terror started with shots thru the door
He opened fire to frighten away security.
Those below, moving around not knowing
Many among them randomly were to die.
A hail of bullets raining down unannounced.
Those who died did not have time to pray.
Those injured, still in the line of fire, prayed
Acts of heroism that night told and untold.
Had those who died said their last goodbyes?
Some perhaps, and others did not think of it.
The old axiom we never know the exact time
Or location when a crazed gunman decides
To be judge and jury of those he didn’t know
And executes them. Many of them young and
Full of life, until his hand moved to the trigger.
What ten minutes, fifteen minutes sheer terror?
And then mass bedlam, a gargantuan bedlam
For no one knew if a second or a third gunman
Promised a symphony with the sound of gunfire.
From a lower location, a monstrous angle to aim.
But only one gunman, dead now by his own hand.
You explain it, I can’t when the night of pleasure
Became a massacre none among us can forget.
Of those who painfully will never go home again
Because of the evil that one man had the idea
He could do on a peaceful night in Las Vegas.
A typical night in a town thousands go for fun
Until there is death in the air, and no one knows
It right away, and it is their unknown time to die.