Written after my friend experienced a car accident and was uninjured. Aesthetically similar to Donne.

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So I’ve heard you crossed paths
with our old friend Death.
Did he have anything to say?

Did he look surprised, when he tore your shields to shreds, to see you walk away?

Does he remember the days when we were weak?
when we fell to the first sickness, or the scratch of a claw?
Does he remember our ancestors
a hundred billion children of the sun
snuffed out at his whim?

I remember.

If you see him again, ask him this;
Did he tremble the day we made our own suns?
Did he tremble when we stepped
into death’s own native skies?

What he once took openly, he must now sneak from our sleep
and for you and me, he is desperate
because us he may never reach.
For while he has the natural order on his side
we have the suns at our backs.
And with them, we build.

So let us build together, you and I.
And if we meet Death again
there will be only one thing left to die.