3AM pronounced dead

I am writing 
to G O D 
With silver pen,
 yet first I, 
Walk on by the silver statue 
Past the prostitute 
And the dead man 
Lying with septicaemia 
Rotting in the underneath 
Where fields of corn grow 
And there before God 
I was stabbed 
By the knife of the murderer 
At the doors of hell 
3am pronounced dead