A Barter With Death


…And every night Death
Crept from the shadows of the room.
Laying in wait, counting breaths
Of her lover doomed.

It would whisper to the maid in waiting –
It’s his time now.
And she would plead with joined hands
Sweat painting her noble brow.

One night livid Death grew weary –
His time is done, his destiny is set.
The maiden whispered thus to Death –
Please, take me instead.

The barter was done,
And Death had won.
The lover awoke
But his love was gone…


Copyright Β©2018 Pradita Kapahi.

All rights reserved.

Background Image: Pinterest

18 thoughts on “A Barter With Death

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