A Prologue

A duel of bloodlines, both shed red and proud

(In fair Verona - seems so young to me),

Their so-called ancient grudge makes their cry loud,

Yet is naught but a bud on their Life’s tree.

Yea, two babes mark’d to lay in me early.

From birth and in love, Life never to touch,

These belong to me – I claim them wholly -

Romeo and Juliet, named as such.

They shall open their lungs and breathe End’s cry,

Pray ears to hear them be sealed ever shut -

Lives drenched in iron drown all who stand by.

I shall be there, summoned without a cut.

For when one is born who beareth my claim,

I shall take all those left where they have lain.

They claim to know hatred, invoke my name

With sword or spell upon their foolish foe

To summon me upon their selfish games.

They say Life cares for them – Life does not know!

They are prideful and imbecilic ants,

Praising my sister, as if I shan’t hear.

Cursing me, when is it not I who grants

Their breaths ev’ry time I fail to appear?

They credit their science and their magic,

When truly I have kept myself at bay.

Ev’ry one greets me and calls it tragic

When what they call Life is me, far away.

They do not know Life, and so they shall know

‘Tis before me that they all should bow low.

Humanity, oh, how they groan when ill

With sickness, and drink, and one another.

Even when their small feuds come to a still,

It is for the loss of star-crossed lovers -

Stabbed, poison’d, but killed by their foolishness.

The pain and anger of generations

Only ebbed when they were left childless

And left to their Life’s cruel ministrations.

Do I seem still fickle, still dreadful now,

When pleas for my sister fall on deaf ears?

She was not there when you took solemn vow,

Not once has she stayed with you through the years.

Mark my words, hear what I am telling thee,

That I, Death, am the only certainty.