As I lay across the floor,
from my body life did pour.
My time had come or so I thought,
I was neither happy nor distraught.
My mind clear awaiting my fate,
but to my surprise death was late.
I lie awaiting the dreaded guest,
ready to journey at his behest.
But it seemed he was delayed,
as my wounds began to fade.
I rose to my feet petrified.
By all accounts I should have died.
My life that day I did reclaim
as the reaper simply never came.
But reapers, you see, are a punctual sort,
no life extended or cut short.
The lives led are as intended,
never mistakenly spared or ended.
I took it to mean all was well,
hearing nary a trumpet, nor toll of the bell .
So off I went to continue my life
unaware of others’ strife.
For my life another had paid.
Forever to a rest this soul was laid.
A kinder person there was no other.
A life given for another.