Death

Your life, a sheet of paper,
And death, a raging fire,
That turns to ash the words you write,
And scripts, anew, a liar.

A blazing flame of darkness,
Oblivion, nightmare,
Bliss to abyss, burnt reminisce,
When caught upon the snare.

The page that tells your lifetime,
And every memory,
Shall pop and fly, then burn and die,
And bind the ones of free.

The time you spend is counted,
And every coin, withdrawn,
For death's a miser and his visor,
Reads with words of scorn.

So live as though you're followed,
A scythe around your neck,
Give death a run for all his fun,
He'll beg you for a cheque.

And maybe, if you're lucky,
You'll find your words are there,
Still on your tongue, a one on one,
The victor of death's dare.