hey lonely girl

The Coming of Death
Death came upon me late one night,
He crept up as the clock stroke twelve,
And stared over my bed.
His breath was hollow,
And barely at all.
His footsteps made no sound.
He didn’t speak,
Death has no words.

He made no shadow in the moonlight glow,
Yet light didn’t extinguish his darken gloom.
I arose from my bed.
With an unspoken statement he led me away.

That was the night I saw everything different.
I realized I had known death before.
The way the wind fingers through hair,
Or lifts it up in a wild tango.
The way you close your eyes and fall into a dreamworld,
Letting peace wash over you.

N !