A Letter From Death

On my desk sat a letter
but I fear what it might say
but things might just get better
if I just looked its way.
There my envelope sat dead
the wax seal still there
I wondered where at it must be read,
where all my friends will dare
but I have yet to learn what it holds in store for me.
My eyes shuttered as I thought
what could this letter hold for me, what could it be?
Yet why must I fear it, these things cant be fought.
The paper was a smooth creamy white
its seal still blood read
but why now why tonight
this letter I should have read tells me I'm dead.
How do I know it
what could I do?
I'll be dead in a bit
by the hands of you know who.

I pick it up, my hands a ghastly white
as I shook, and I sputtered in a painful fright.

The seal must be broken
that is all that I could think
I must shatter it into a thousand pieces
the creamy white paper must become pink.

Wheres my knife?
Where did it go
I'll beat death to me
I'll take my own life.

But, first to that letter
it must go
into a fire
and down to hell below.
Suddenly I had it
both letter and knife
but which shall I cut open first
Death's note or my life?

I opened both in one fell swing
giving death a sad dieing thing.
A pitiless soul that all shall enjoy
while death sits down and watches the boy.
The letter Death thought, it would have saved your life
if only you hadn't used that razor like knife.
Now to watch you struggle, to see that queer smile
even now as you walk the green mile. 

Author's Note

Watch the rhyme scheme for changes here and there.