Rest in Peace

Death, we are your humble servants. I speak for the rest of us when I beg you to treat us kindly, though don't expect kindness in return. Do not expect respect or obedience. No one dies obediently. We use you, we corrupt you, we ravage you. We even fear you.
But do we respect you?

The answer needn't be spoken. You see it every minute of every day with your own omnipresent blue eyes.
When the day comes that you and I meet and bid adieu to the world, I wonder selfishly how your gaze will turn on me. Will you smirk in revenge, as I have mocked you? Will you smile and greet me with welcoming arms, like an old friend. Well, mon vieux, the choice is yours.
I can only wait in fear.

Please, Death, enlighten me. What are your motives? Lean a little closer, breathe your putrid breath across my neck and whisper your secrets. Do you murder to save lives, or take them away? Are you an angel or a demon? Blessed or cursed?
Your answer falls silent. It acts as merely a muse through my mind. When I say my final goodbye, I hope I will learn your secrets, if it is even a secret at all.
Look, and here come your children! Pain, Misery and Suffering. Such innocent faces.
I feel like I have known them my entire life.
May I shake your hand, close in for a hug? No? The intimacy is not something you are used to. That we have in common, my friends. Maybe we are destined to be together after all. Time will tell.

Death, please collect your children.
I feel I have suddenly grown all too familiar with them. They have taken off their masks. They are hideous.
Please, take them away.

I wait for Death to return to me, but the door remains closed, the air still feels unpleasantly warm to touch. The coldness calls back to me, though only in my mind.

I miss you.
Please, come back for me.

Take me with you.