The End


Death approached me one night in the light of the moon
And held out his hand in invitation as a friend.
The narrow fingers and clammy palm touched mine
As my feeble, aged hands gripped back in return.

His mouth spewed forth a green, toxic mist.
His cold eyes looked at me through the shadow of a hood.
His cloak wrapped around us in a thick, warm embrace,
And his joints rattled and trembled, weak with no life.

As Death took me away, I quickly looked back to Life
In its shimmering beauty, its longing cries;
Yet, I felt no longing in return for my life
For my years were well lived and my friends well picked

So I turned back to Death, a form of toxicity and pain,
And held it back in my own warm embrace.
We drifted up through the wind, the clouds, and the stars
As everything ended, and Death had won.

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