death

I met a man from a shadowed land,
Who spoke of one with a mocking hand.
In a realm where shadows writhe and creep,
Lived a man who scorned Death’s silent sweep.

With laughter dark and eyes ablaze,
He taunted the Reaper through endless days.
“Come, Death, and claim me if you dare,
For I am fearless, free from care.”

But Death, with hollow eyes, stood still,
And watched the man with a chilling thrill.
Years turned to decades, centuries fled,
The man remained, while others bled.

He watched as loved ones turned to dust,
Their lives consumed by time’s cruel thrust.
The man, now haunted, wandered wide,
Through lands where time had left its tide.

He saw the rise and fall of thrones,
And heard the wails of ghostly moans.
His heart grew heavy, burdened deep,
With memories that made him weep.

He saw the world in shadows cast,
As joy and love became the past.
“Why, Death, do you forsake me still?
I’ve mocked you once, but now I will

To feel your touch, to end this strife,
And join my loved ones in the afterlife.”
In twilight’s gloom, the man did stand,
With trembling voice and outstretched hand.

“Dear Death, I beg you, hear my plea,
Release me from eternity.”
Death, with hollow eyes, drew near,
And whispered softly in his ear,

“You mocked me once, but now you see,
The gift of life is not so free.”
With tearful eyes, the man did bow,
And Death, with mercy, took him now.

The centuries of pain erased,
As he embraced Death’s cold embrace.