He had not asked to be made

as who he was, nor had he

volunteered to be the bearer

of such a tremendous duty.

Nearly every waking moment,

he spends escorting fallen souls

to their self-determined finality.

In addition, he’d had no say

in the choosing of his names,

of which he had many.

Death, if he wished, could easily

shrug the weight from his shoulders.

Yet, knowledge of the consequences

of such an action, held him back.

Once, he had set his duty aside.

What followed, could only be

classified as a calamity.

He realized, that without him,

Life could not carry out her duty.

For, in his ancient ceremony,

he’d always left behind the body,

and only taken the ephemeral.

It was Life’s, not his, responsibility

to reclaim and recycle the bodies.

Yet, this knowledge is not what

tortured his being most.

No, that rank belonged to the idea

that no one would come to claim him.  












Author's Notes/Comments: 

A personification of death.

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sweetwater's picture

This is a very deep,

This is a very deep, insightful write, I like this so much it shows empathy towards something we all fear, you have turned that fear around, I now feel sorry for Death! Very clever :-) X

Sky's picture

Thanks once again for the

Thanks once again for the comment and compliments! I'm glad the idea i was going for worked out. 

We'll just keep writing 'til there's nothing left to write.

We'll just keep waiting 'til they read all our works left to right.