Death Comes Softly Poem by Sydney L

Death comes softly
But not weakly
It walks quietly between the trees
You can't hear it coming
Not even the rustle of leaves

There it is again
Standing by his bed
Amidst the gathered people
And all the tears they've shed

I see it now
Death coming for me
I am surprised to say the least
It's not what I thought it'd be

Not a man in black
Not a scythe in sight
Not a skeletal face
But a woman wearing white

She approaches me
I don't hear her move
She offers me a smile
As beautiful as the moon

Death takes my hand
And leads me far away
She smiles again at me
I think I'll be okay