Hi there! I hope you enjoy this poem that I wrote this evening.
Death and I have talked before;
At first it was nothing; He
Would say hello from time to time,
Was afraid of His allure.
Then came a time of darkness, and I
Thought that He
Might give me answers, but
I should have known that He cannot uphold
A promise to find the light.
It was in the shadows that I found Him,
Haunting His lips, and reached
Out His hand
To show me the way.
He laughed at my refusal, murmured
“Maybe next time”, and left, leaving
An ache that
Never quite went away.
We talk sometimes; I flirt
With His darknessess and every time
His glinting eyes make an offer
That I every time refuse;
And it is easier now, but,
Every now and then
I go to have a talk with Death
And He reaches out His hand