Death came wooing.
Made of the dark
robed in slithering shadows
he emerged
from the mirror.
Elegant fingers
rippled through my hair
twined a truant curl.
Drooping flowers
death’s white blossoms
sprung up amidst
dishevelled black locks.
Youth, shrugged
in helpless defeat
blew me a kiss
bowed out with
a flourish.
Life backed out.
To put up a fight
seemed such a bother.
Shadows lengthened
gathered nearer.
Death held out
his arms
locked me within
his tender embrace
for eternity.