I spoke to death today
He told me to be strong
That this burning sensation throughout my body
Was my trial by fire
This unholy presence in my legs, chest, and arms
Would be my testament
If I survived
I crawled away as far as I could
Why did death choose me
Was I too evil
Too good
Or simply in the wrong place
Perhaps he came for some long held grudge
Or did he want my treasured possessions
Questioning his motives death returned
He got right in my face and asked me
If I was ready to die
An answer that didn’t matter
My life was in the hands of a reaper
His cold lips on my forehead,
Prepared my mind for his embrace
Do I cower or accept death
Rejection seemed impossible
Death just waited for his answer
Clicking his teeth
He drew back his blade
I stared as this hooded figure
Triggered at my demise
All I could ask was
Why
These are my last words with death
So says the gun