When Death Found Me

The Grim Reaper stood at my back

His scythe

Lingered over my shoulder

Lusting for the taste

Of air that did not reach my lungs

 

But ahead of me

Stood you

Face whitewashed

With horror

 

But still you defended me

Your eyes killed Death

With a loving gaze

 

And I swear

I never felt Death’s shadow

Never smelt the dust of graves

On his cloak

I never heard him say my name

 

But you did.

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