Dear Death, I write like pen to an old café friend, Your shadow at my shoulder, quiet, polite, and near, No trembling in my ink, no need to pretend, Just two souls at a table, speaking clear. You know the one I love...the laugh, the fragile light, The way her mornings bloom like gold through lace, Please turn your steps from her this night, Let mercy be the mask upon your face. If someone must go walking where your dark roads bend, Let it be me who takes that silent train, I’ll trade my breath without a need to mend, And wear the hush like soft, unspoken rain. No anger in this ask, no bargain edged in fear, Just one small favor folded in this plea, You’ve always been a listener, Death, my dear.. Tonight, be kind… and come instead for me.