O Angel of Death, with wings of shade,
Before your hand grips tight the blade,
I plea, not yet, my time delay,
For I have many dreams left to lay and decay.

Your shadow looms, so cold, so as to fold,
Ye let me linger, free from fear,
One final breath to taste the sun,
To mend the heart I've left undone.

Though fate has woven threads so thin,
And silence beckons deep within,
Grant me a moment's gentle grace,
To bid farewell, to find my solemn place.

I do not shun the path you pave,
Nor dread the silences of many grave,
But mercy, pause your fleeting flight,
And let me savor one last lonely night.

O Sweet Angel, take me in, if you must,
But leave me now so that I may love, and trust,
For life’s sweet wine still fills into my cup—
I beg, for one more sip, before you reap me up.

© TheRetro_Reader