DEAR DEATH

Whose messenger are you Grim Reaper?
And what is it that you whisper
To all souls, both young and old?
How do you turn them bold
Enough to risk the unknown?

Who sent you, heaven or hell?
With which message that all receive well,
And forget dear ones, even daughters and sons,
Leaving half-done projects and novel plans,
And decide today’s was their last dawn?

Whence do you come, dear friend,
(Friend? Yes, if only briefly at the end.)
When you come to deny one a tomorrow
and upon a lifeless body deliver sorrow,
do you think of the tears of the bereaved?

Pray do tell, what fuels your tenacity
to roam the world’s ends, village to city,
and without bias take each at their time
be they rich or surviving sans any dime?
In whose ingenious mind were you contrived?

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