DEATH, A POEM

I had this dream, I don't know if it was real but so real it seemed
Death came for me
Not a word
It wasn't a skeleton
It did not wield a scythe
I did not want to go
I did not know what it was
There was no cloak in this spirit
There was no form at all
Death was a mere cloud
It took me through a hall

I walked many steps
At one point I stopped
Death was now in front
When suddenly the cloud dropped
It formed a stream on the floor
Rivers of reflection
I guess death was giving me time for retrospection
I was so young upon first glance
Here I was looking at my life
Stripped down for an eventual rise

Death my friend what it this?
I see ships with hulls all of them rotting
The ships sink to the water as they make a big mess
Things keep happening
I can't well see the rest
Death my dear friend it's been like a ride
I look upon my life with a great deal of pride

I ask death one more time what's going on
It doesn't respond and something is wrong
What will I do?
What did I do?
Everything is odd
I am dead
I have not bled
My clothes are not red
Why death?
What has my attitude bred?

Death told me
I was good
I was decent
My parting was not recent
It takes time to see my life
Even if I was good and polite
Thank you death I know I did right