The Beauty of Written Word

Death Stops For Thee

I am but a name in this world and many others.
Though you may know me as Grim or Death.
I do not take joy in the work I was handed.
For death waits on no man nor woman.

I have been written about by many who scratch the pen.
Interviewed by many such poets you may know,
I can list a few if you would like.
Though a few of thy favorite word I shall answer.

First there was a man named from the snow and ice.
He talked to me about a road of regret.
A road not taken.
Choices in life and regrets in death.

We spoke for hours,
Watched as dawn disappeared.
His last breath was of ease.
He said it best "Nothing gold can stay," .

Among the women there was always my favorite.
Elizabeth and no not thy queen.
She was however a queen of written word.
Though she could not stop for me.

We drove through town in a carriage.
Sought out the sights of her memories.
Passed the grazing lands and setting sun.
A love I had for her word which lasted an eternity.

Now a man that is respected.
His madness and craze.
We talk about him daily,
The Raven, in a lone maze.

He was glad to see me did not shed a tear.
He was glad to be reunited with Lenore his dear.
His loss and grief subsided for all to see.
All three were glad I had stopped for thee.