I knock on no door, yet every door is mine,
A guest that's unasked for, but always on time.
They call me the uninvited, terribly unfair;
I’ve never seen an invitation,
but I’m expected everywhere.
I watch the strange duality of breath and bone,
How life parades loudly,
yet fears to walk alone.
They call me horror, wicked, and unkind,
An impression stitched
in the corner of their mind.
They say I haunt them, and I'm mean.
But I simply wait.
Patience, my dear,
has always been my trait.
They hunt me like a prey,
whisper me like a prayer.
They seek me like an escape
when the weight grows hard to bear.
Bravery shines like the brightest glare,
Which turns into shreds
when they sense I’m there.
Sanity becomes a burden then,
and madness; a strange relief.
Funny how courage fades so fast
when they remember me beneath.
Curse me or praise me
it hardly matters either.
I am no tyrant, or an oppressor, merely a keeper.
For every breath that wanders free
has quietly signed a pact with me.
So fear me, chase me, deny me forever
sooner or later, we always walk together.
I never ask, I never plead,
yet every living soul I’m guaranteed.
For I am the night that greets the day;
no lock can bar, no prayer delay.
Why so afraid to see me like that?
I’m just the death;
rest is upheld, my dear.
Comments (0)
See all