Death paid a visit in the dead of the night. He banged on the door and woke me with a fright.
I undid the latch, not knowing who it was.
He flew at me without warning, for he had no reason to pause.
In another dream that night, I felt someone by my bed.
And again there he was, the grim reaper of the dead.
I cried out in my sleep, the most pitiful cry.
It escaped from my lips, with no time for goodbyes.
We never know when it's over,
when it's our time to die.
It's always a surprise, with no time to reply.
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