Random Scribblings

I treat Death with more respect now.
He is nice enough to let me borrow time once in awhile.
But the second I forget who I belong to,
He comes along to reclaim what belongs to him.
Yes he demands respect, even from the living.
He likes to take things from you that aren’t yours to be giving.
That includes your heart, your time and everything in between.
He is always within an inch of your happiest moments and your deepest darkness.
He remains with me, graciously, offering a tissue not to be mistaken with kindness,
More like a proposition.
I politely decline.
It’s too easy and nothing is for free.
To be indebted to him is the last thing I want
When I’m still indebted to me.
He still follows me
waiting for any moment I forget to address him properly.
So I treat Death with more respect now.

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