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A Poem from Death

Get up, woman

By AmyPublished about a year ago 1 min read
Top Story - April 2025
A Poem from Death
Photo by Grant Whitty on Unsplash

I sat with death and he set with me,

I asked why he took all he did from me.

He laughed and said he could've taken more,

I stepped back and asked why'd he do that for.

Your cousin who laid in bed for days,

The Sick who lingered around her prey.

It was me who stepped forward and said not him,

Then she left in the fear I put within.

The months then shortened to weeks,

And didn't he come to your party on Christmas Eve?

You came into this world, quiet and blue,

The angels silenced as they only watched you.

It was me who said not her,

And the wind gushed into your lungs like a blur.

I take no more than I need to,

And I let live all that I can breathe life into.

You never want me to visit,

But what I leave behind is up to you, isn't it?

Fuck you, she wailed,

I know, you feel like you failed.

But you must let go of her hand,

So that I can carry her to my land.

I say it's her,

And that I am sure.

One day I'll come for you and you can be together,

But for now you must let go of each other.

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About the Creator

Amy

Writer of my thoughts and emotional babble. Storytelling is my hobby.

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    Written by Amy