Mr. Death

He was death.

Mr. Death.

Or that’s how he imagined himself to be.

The snatcher.

The cruel.

The unexpected surprise.

That unwanted guest.

I heard him once.

“Life.

When I was born I was not a beginning of a dream.

I was condemned to a nightmare, waiting to wake up.

What is life?

Nothing but a delusion.

A trick, a cheap trick conjured by an amateur magician.

An illusion.

They say find a reason to live.

They say find purpose.

Hypnotized hoodwinked fools.

I will find them and I will wake them up.

I will find them all.

One by one.

Life does not begin.

It ends.

.”

He stalked the day.

Babies.

Blooming love.

Carefree youth.

Joyous families.

Indulging rich.

Besieged poor .

Life.

He would never know.

He would never understand.

One day I plucked him as gently as everyone else before him.

And everyone after him.