Narrative poetry told from the perspective of Death

NOTE: Idea of Death taken from Markus Zusak.

CW: unnecessarily morbid!

She’s going to sleep, she frees her long locks

Her eyes are closing, then she hears a knock

She throws off her sheets irritably

She walks to the wooden door kind of bitterly

It is midnight, who would disturb this pretty woman?

Whoever it is, their actions are simply inhuman!

So late in the night, this beauty is awake

Ignorant to all that is at stake.

She turns the doorknob and pulls open the door

In pain, she roars

I hear pistol shots ring into the silent night

A funeral, not even a fight.

So I carry her up to paradise

Where the clear streams flow and the air is nice

Now her daughter wants to see what all the ruckus is about

And what she sees-well, she almost shouts

But she can’t because before she could

She falls to the ground, where she once stood.

Papa is coming because all of it, he heard

His heart will be broken, though to their kind this isn’t very absurd

Papa carries his shotgun towards the bodies

Little does he know there will be one more copy

Another identical scene of sadness

Another fatality in reality-madness!

The last two shots, wasted on Papa

Another two shots for Mama

And their daughter got three

Three bodies lying there do I see

Three more running away

I cannot speak, so what do I say?

I do my job and I carry

The last two people to be judged fairly.

That was life for them all

Merrily alive but destined to fall.

I don’t like to question my job

But I hate it every time I see another hand on another doorknob

It worries me, the way it plays

I work 24/7 all days.

Yes humans haunt me, it is true.

But any word against them is taboo.