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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1198144
For me, death has become this sinister character, with a secret.
Devil you, who reigns the night,
  what claims have you to me?
Quick are you to show your hand,
  your face I never see.
I've felt your breath upon my neck,
  I've heard you spread your lies.
Not once would you stop for me,
  when I cried and asked you why.
Tempt the young, bend the strong,
  the weak you lead them on.
Dancing slow, dancing fast,
  until their breath is gone.
So when it's I, you come courting,
  your face I finally see.
Before you draw my final breath,
  you shall answer me!
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