Death

Does Death have a name – like Bill, or John, or Jane?

Or does it exist with a title like Master, Servant, or God?

Will we greet each other by name when at last we meet, or just tip our heads in each other’s directions too busy, or important to truly speak?

Is Death aware of its power? Is it aware of the romance associated with its function?

Does it cry because of the fear and misconceptions that are associated with it?

Does it grieve when it comes for babies, young children, kittens, or adults who have dedicated their lives to good?

Does it sneer that so many full of evil know how to slip its grip?

If I were to invite Death out for a movie and drink, what would it order?

Does Death have a favorite sports team? Wear boxers, briefs, or go commando?

Does Death have a list of those it can’t wait to see like Capone, Hitler, or McVey?

What does it believe about itself?

Would Death be offended if I called it Bob?

Peace,
zss

© 2007 Wrosesongs