Old Man Death

Death is such an
interesting
topic to discuss.

It has so many
faces and
it never makes a fuss.

There are so many
rumors and
tall tales that go around,
but it does not raise
a finger
doesn't even make a sound.

I don't think it deserves
the reputation
it has got.
You see the great
grim reaper,
I see an old man with lung rot.

This man I see was
on his way
to die in just a day.
But then was offered a
chance to be
Death itself instead.

As such, he would not die,
never really
say goodbye;
Or so he thought, so in
his blood
he signed the dotted line.

He did not see the
consequences
of that dreadful act.
He never dreamed all he'd
give up
with such a simple pact.

For though now he
could not die,
he also could not be
alive as just the man
he was,
now he must oversee
the crossing of the dead
to whatever lay
beyond;
Lead poor decaying souls
across the river
to move on.

At first he tried just
everything
he could imagine to escape,
but after several centuries,
he surrendered
to his fate.

Many years have passed
since then;
that man no longer speaks.
He glides as silent as
the grave,
hope he no longer seeks.
If you ever get a chance though,
to peek
beneath his hood,
on his face you'll see the suffering
for so long
he has stood.

So when it comes
your time to pass,
don't scowl or spit his way.
It's not his fault,
so smile,
and tip your hat and say,

"I'm sorry for all that
you've lost
and what you've been put through.
I hope one day
you too can rest
and we may welcome you."

And if you're truly lucky
you may glimpse
his eyes so dark.
You may just hear him
whispering,
"I thank you for that sweet remark."

So you tell me
is Death
really something to be feared?

Or is it just a
poor old man
we rarely ever hear?