Becoming Death Poem by Rose Marie Cook

Death frees my soul
Takes it out
Holds it so close

Through it I feel his coldness
I view his burdons
I know how he regrets

This 'life' was given to him
He can't escape it
He is it; the passage

He longs to see his family
To hold his wife
To kiss her once again is all he asks for

Who was God to decide
He is the chosen one
Why is that God's choice?

I would make it my choice
My job; I would take his burdons
And free Death to his love

I would be death itself
I would be free of my life
And no one would miss me

No fear
No regrets
None.