Death For Tea

A final testament signed by my hand.
Outside the banshee sings her Come Death song.
Death beside me, having tea, all along.
Playing chess, check-mates me, as he had planned.
He gestures: more tea, but I reprimand.
“She calls!” She’ll come for me before too long.”
He motions: calm. Her tempting sway grows strong.
My lonely soul never to understand.

Clip clop, clip clop, and stops by my dwelling.
“it’s not yet time,” Death whispers in my head.
“Live yet longer, and treasure life instead.”
Eyes shut tight, Heaven’s scent, I was smelling
then Dawn arose to cover the sky red.
I awoke, among family, in bed.