unsolved murder mystery

I am surrounded by the four lights and I
can see now, you'll never come to me
needing release from this candid air & time
the fake mr. moto tells me
you don't know this as betrayal
& I agree, but the bullets fly anyway
silver in solution & in the steady light
they speak murder; they tell me, honest now,
that your death is pre-ordained
& though I'll see you in crowded halls
the only way you'll ever welcome me
is in death.
but I won't give you that satisfaction.