Once

I met Death, once.
And he was welcoming.

I smelled the blood
as it escaped from my body; as it ran from my wounds.

I tasted the salty tears
of which he kindly wiped from my face.

I felt his bony hands;
and they were like daggers that pierced my skin.

I watched as his dark cloak
engulfed me into a black nothingness.

In my suffering, I waited,
waited for his unforgiving clutch upon my soul.

I heard his rattling breath
as I drew my last.

I met Death, once.
And I welcomed him with open arms.