Death’s Purpose

Once I enjoyed the company of many,

Of my wife, my children, my friends a-plenty,

But now left alone quietly to myself,

Cursing my life as months pass from first to twelfth,

Having watched them all die whilst I linger hence,

In old age refusing strangers past my fence,

And so one night I shouted out to black Death,

Demanding him to explain at grim Sabbath,

Whyfore he had left me living desolate,

With no family to tend me consolate,

And I asked why he bore suff'ring upon us,

A question at which he duly answered thus:

"I am neither cause of the suff'ring you know,

Nor a taskmaster with dread demons in tow,

I am the reaper of sad and wearied souls,

I alone end all suffering's grievous tolls."

With his words I understood his task at last,

My bitterness toward Death departing me fast,

The anger of my heart replaced by sadness,

At which time Death bore me up to happiness.