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As I sat there upon the boulder,
Thinking to myself.
I heard a rustle of the
Leaves upon the meadow shelf.
I turnd around yet saw no-one,
Upon the meadow bound.
As I took, another look, I heard
Again that sound.
To what it was, I had no thought,
Of what it had been or to be.
For to my knowledge it could have been
A phantom you couldnt see!
The only hint it gave me, was
The rustling of the leaves.
It seemed that
all it wanted was
A friendly tease.
But to me it wasnt funny,
The busting and the boom!
Above my fear
I had to think,
What to assume.
Again I heard it, this time
More strong.
Finally I stood against
my fear,
And said, This is too wrong!
No sooner than I took a breath
I heard it once again.
As the
darkness fell quickly,
And the lightening began.
I didnt propose on being funny.
It said,
If I wanted
to be funny I would just said BOO.
I wonder whom I was talking to,
And to what he intended to do.
What do
you plan on doing? I said,
Searching for were he stood.
Do you know who I am? and came a
Black robe figure
out of the darken' wood.
I am Death!
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