The Visitor

A visitor came to me from the door
A man encloaked I’ve never seen before
He approached me at my writer’s desk
And extended a bony finger towards my chest

“Your mind or your soul, young poet, young man,
Is what I require, it’s part of the plan.
While your mind stays with you in mortal strife
Your soul will keep you within eternal life.
I need but one so make your decision quick,
Or let me snuff your life, as a candle’s wick.”

I paused, sighed, and put down my pen
Then brought up my head and thought of the glen.
In youth I would play in that glen so free
Always expecting to live careless for eternity.
I thought of those days and how they have passed
And smiled and thought ‘My chance has come at last’

“Oh Death, Ol’ Scratch, The Sandman, Mephistopheles
I will tell you my decision and why it came to be.
Take my mind, for my soul is too dear
The future is uncertain and my end may be near
Take my mind so that I may constantly be
Eternally happy and endlessly care-free.”

From Death’s cowl, a flash of white struck
And it seemed, with all of my strange luck,
This is what he wanted, my mind, my brain
The flash of white was a smile that is forever engrained

Engrained in my soul, but not my mind
For I lost that long ago; left it behind
The visitor left and walked out the door
As my body slumped and my pen hit the floor.