Deaths kiss

Mortality kisses my cheek,
And I can see death.
He looks neither happy nor sad,
Just quite bleak.
I hold my breath,
Not knowing if I see him is good or bad.

He motions for me to follow,
And I do.
He takes me down a road,
Of sorrow, ages decay and hearts wallow.
I cry, what else can I do?
Until we come to his humble abode.

It's filled with happy souls,
And smiling faces,
All who welcome me.
Time has not taken its toll,
With empty vodka cases,
That lay as every way I see.

Death pulls out a chair,
And I sit down.
He's quite a good fellow you know,
Who does actually care,
And does not wear a black gown,
He carries with him a bow.

He says he shoots lonely people with it,
And then they are no longer that way,
I ask who?
And it takes a bit,
For him to finally say.
That I have no clue.

He shot Paris and Helen,
Romeo and Juliet,
Iseult and poor Tristan
And I just can't believe what he's tellin'
How can they sell it,
They tell us and expect us to kiss then.

I leave with no heart left,
For how can the demons be,
Who we never thought,
I weep at their theft,
And everything that I know see,
And for the flowers that I once bought.

A kiss from mortality,
Was it,
Thanks to deaths hospitality,
I can now see a bit.