Dear Darling Death

When the Gods resign and loving embers fade,

That’s when my saviour’ll come galloping whey,

Under the moonless sky, in a blackened sheath,

A scythe in a hand and a hand for me.

Seeing him townspeople say-

The Grim Reaper is on his way!

Hearin’ knocks at my door,

I’ll jump and squeal!

Dying poppies’ll bleed and sheen.

A swish of his sceptre,

Taking my breath away-

Death- my Darling is on his way!

And my liberator, Death, will swing me on

his shoulders, moonstruck, down the frigid dawn.

I’ll clutch on to him, never to go,

To be a dancing flame in his lair,

Mistress of Death, that’ll be my name-

Death- my Darling is on his way!

Whilst living folks may screech at me,

Condemn my insidious insanities,

Recall O’ folks how I lay,

Under misery’s malefic grave.

Fools like me breath for an escape-

Death- my Darling is on his way!

Death- my Darling does arrive,

But declares this in a booming strife:

“You never lived but survived!

Death isn’t an abode for fallen fires!”

Doubts drop in and oh I realize-

Halt! Wasn’t this Fear all along?

Death can never take me Home.