Thundering Thoughts

Love, Death

He was a stealer; he still is.
A snap and all had crumbled,
   sadness lingered from what I
   thought was bliss.
I am a stealer; I still am.
I purloin hearts from animals, men
   and women-name it! I rob-even
   from glam ones constantly trying
   to lam.

Be cautious, he really is a stealer.
But we take moments for granted
   and failed to express gratitude for
   who and what stayed-and was
   always there.
I acquiesce, you foolish wench!
Someone was there yet you want
   more; you were provided with a
   sun yet you constantly yearned for
   the moon, what an insolence!
Your greed has become a thirst
   life couldn't quench!

Hence, life had bestowed the reins
   on me.
Now how was the thrill-filled
   venture of my stealing escapades
   lately?
I am a stealer and no one can evade
   nor block nor be exempted from
   my wrath.
Mademoiselle, I go by the name
   "Death".

Just a customer review: "How was
   the feeling of yearning for someone
   you've always disregarded before?"
How was it carrying the burden of
   resentments and regrets when
   you could've filled their hearts
   with your gratitude afore?"
Now, suffer under the curse.
For sadly, regrets can't undo nor
   take you back to those intangible
   mementos of ungratefulness.

Take this as a reminder to not take
   everything around you, everything
   you have, all that you are and all
   those people around you, for
   granted.
For I was always a stealer, still am,
   and will always be.

Love,
Death