Death

(Written at age 25.)

Did you hear Death knock
And grumble about the lock
On the door it didn't know would be there?
Did you hear It sigh in despair
That you were trying to resist
And that It'd have to insist
On taking you?

Did you turn the music up loud
And decide to be too proud
To acknowledge that you can only ever be free
Not inside your mortality,
But outside of it?

Or did Its tired heave
Make you believe
That maybe you shouldn't fight?
Were you tempted to invite
It in
To share a Lagavulin
And ask for Its wisdom?

Did you have a conversation
About the constellation
of Life in the universe of Death?

Was It grateful for the chat
And decide that at
This time it didn't want to take you?
Did you bid it adieu?

Did you find yourself left with an inexplicable frown?

Did you finally close your eyes
And for once,
See nothing?