death and i

death and i, we used to play
when i was young, most everyday
and for his soul, i used to pray
when time, to work, called him away

back then, we took to such extremes
devising endless wild schemes
to mute our dark and haunting dreams
where shadows smothered silent screams

i saw him laugh, i heard him cry
i felt him bleed, the same as i
but never sensed he’d question why
or doubt the need for one to die

nor did i ask, nor he explain
his duty, purpose, or domain
for be they sacred or profane
my youth would neither entertain

and i, thereby, so unaware
left death to deal with death’s affair
save concern for his despair
when for my friend, i said my prayer

but as adulthood slowly neared
my friend, who shared this darkness feared
he left, and all the darkness cleared
as if, by him, once engineered

for years i felt so hurt, betrayed
to think that death, for whom i prayed
to whom i turned, when most afraid
had, by his hand, the darkness made

until, at last, i’d grown so old
my world grown bleak, and stark, and cold
slipped to darkness, fears took hold
and death, all smiles, in he strolled

he waived his hand, my world turned bright
he pointed toward a burning light
away from which my fears took flight
till none but beauty filled my sight

in tears, i looked upon my friend
and first began to comprehend
the life he managed to extend
when he did not, my darkness end

now death and i, we used to play
when i was sick, most everyday
and for my soul, he used to pray
so time, back then, would let me stay

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