Death

Death follows me.

Shrouded, quiet.
She dogs my footsteps.

Sometimes, whispering

dire threats in my ear
that my breath belongs to her.

She can snatch it away
whenever she wills.

When I pay no heed

she sobs and whines

begs and begs

for me to transform
her darkness to light.

For she knows

that I and only I 

can give her that gift
she craves for.

I