The doors slam

I should be dead
But I am not

Looked death in the eye
And shocked my head

Dreaming this reality
Blowing a kiss in disbelief

Rattling the dice in my hand
The scythe man stares back

Silence crawls along the spine
Cold as death

Trembling anger in that grasping hand
Words in unnerving silence

Whispering in a fog
I will see you later

I should be gone
But somehow I am still here

Walked up to the doors of hell
Knocked on the door

And screamed                 you
The reaper answered

You like playing this foolish game
Playing with black aces and eights

I will see you soon
But not just yet

As the doors slam shut