Dialogue of Death

Is It Just Me?

I came home to a body on the ground

Shocked, petrified by what I see

Is that a corpse on the floor?

Or is it just me?

Then Death walks in,

As if a welcomed guest

He bent down to retrieve what was His,

As a lump filled my chest

A wasted life

So young, so free

A sharp cold filled the room,

Or was it just He?

Muffled by His dark hood,

I heard in His icy, satisfied breath,

"The terrible inconvenience of living

Is the unconventional circumstance of Death."

Infuriating, disheartening, aggravating,

Why can't He leave and let him be?

So I reached out for the undeserving victim.

Oh wait, that's just me.