Death Hanging On the End of Rope

this morning too, as usual, Death hanging on the end of my life asked, staring at me, “how have you been?” he is not my favorite guy, i turn my face at him and smile because he has a nasty temper; never know, you may have to face some sort of unthinkable retaliation if you ignore him when you walk for twenty four hours to exchange for today; it’s nice even for a moment to be not conscious of Death hanging onto the end of life’s rope; after the fall of darkness you unload your day’s burden and go to bed, the length of rope shortened by another twenty four hours while you were roaming the pathway leading to a simple dream, today, too; Death hanging on the end of my life asked, staring at me, “how have you been?”