A Letter to Death

Dear Death,

All will face your face but why do some run? Do they see you as a ugly demon coming to take souls? Do they feel the cold breeze upon the neck and do whatever it takes to avoid your grip? They try to flee until their last breath has to become air in the wind. There is no hope for them. Now do you laugh while you cross names off your list? Is there a shrill final exasperation of laughter from your lips? Do you Mourn? No. You do none. You come to do what you were designed, and to bring them what was destined.

Others will forget that you linger in every shadow.

That the beats in their chest are coming to beat no longer.

That each day we all come closer and closer to going six feet under.

That the days of life that we live have been numbered.

That the birth of man was lightning and death is the coming thunder.

So you, Thanatos, will come to tell them "no longer you shall wonder."

The last will wait with eager longing for the sweetness of your touch. A desire to see all toils, despair, and absurdity come to an end. For in light of that desire can you no longer frighten us. And to fear you is the unwillingness to live. So you, O death, came not to teach us to fear but to know all will change.

From dust we came and to it we will return.