Death At My Door

Death is knocking at my door. I feel him like an unwanted whore. Why won't he just let me be? There is still time for me, can't he see? I see the knob turn slowly and pray to God that he spares me. His hand begins to show through the crack, his time piece peeking through his knapsack. He pulls a scroll from his robe, can't he pick someone else from this globe? I beg and plead and ask him not to proceed. He stands inside my threshold like a groom waiting for his wife so they can grow old. I no longer feel a fear from his intentions true and walk towards his arms, there's nothing left to do. I come close to death's frail arms he pulls me in and I feel his charm. Death puts his lips close to my ears, he whispers to me words I barely hear: "Now is not the time for you, this is a warning to help you through. You are worth many years to come keep year chin up, don't seem so glum." Death then lets go of his grip, I cling on and feel his robe almost rip. He smiles a faint gruesome grin and sends chills through out my skin. Death is walking outside of my door, now I am changed more than ever before.