There came a knocking on my door
From a stranger with dark piercing eyes
Who seemed familiar
Yet I did not recognise him.
Asking for food and shelter
He sat at my table and I fed him
No word was spoke until we finished eating
And sat before the fire warming ourselves.
He talked into the early hours of the morning
Speaking of secret things about myself
Which I thought only I did know
Things that burdened and shamed the soul.
Taking my hand saying it was time
He led me out into the darkness
I knew him to be Death
And trembled afraid of where he was taking me.
Leave a Reply