Thinking of death when sleep half possesst me,
I saw a strange thing but somewhat benign:
Hello, end of all life, Death’s name of mine,
I wonder if you care to come with me.

I’m not so sure nor would I ever know,
A body dies a bit each single day,
‘Tis not easy to know the time to go,
You scarce come to take every cell this way.

No, I need not come bodies to deport,
I come when soul is ready to depart,
Sure, come only then my soul to escort,
I doubt if every cell has soul apart.

Death comes to call each single day of life,
Wonder why death of body’s such a strife!
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This is a dialogue between a man dreaming and
the Lord of Death, Yama. The last couplet is
what the poet feels.
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- Sonnets | 07.09.07 |

Aniruddha Pathak

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-comes-to-call-every-day/