What You Don’t Know About Death

I met a little boy
His name is Death

Despite popular belief
He isn’t broody or gloomy or dark
Death has the sweetest smiles
With eyes of brightest spark

Despite what most people think
Death adores healers
He oversees love and health and life
For, he explained, he doesn’t really need believers

Death loves the defenders,
the mad scientists, and the so called immortal gods
With every bit of them fighting it, denying it,
pouring everything to beat the odds

For Death is neither a hunter nor a reaper
but a gatherer that is eternal
Who whispers “Well done, you were magnificent”
As they enter his kingdom imperial

Because who are they to hasten Death’s domain?
Who are they to presume that Death, of all creatures, shall obey?
He who patiently, waitingly, siphons away the great monsters of the world
With a giddy snort, a happy chort, with a grin and his fingers curled

Despite popular belief
Death fights and defends
For when one is as inevitable
There’s no need to rush your end

I met a little boy
His name is Death