I Sat Down With My Old Friend Death

old restored

 

I sat down with my old friend Death
And looked him in the eye
I asked him to speak to me
But he merely answered with a sigh

I wished for him to unveil
The tricks of his trade
But the more I asked the more he sighed
And then he began to turn away

He rose from his chair and began to leave
Despite my desperate pleas
He ignored me with a cold shoulder
And left me begging on my knees

But when he left I smiled and thought
“How nice not to be wanted by Death
For although I long to unmask the unknown
I'd rather cherish each and every breath

For despite my cloak of black
And the morose gloom of my verse
I would not give up my love for thee
In favor of an immortal curse.