Death Defiant

 
Should time of my demise be left to choose,

Procrastination be my loyal ruse.

And if the place be left to utter sway,

Then name a place beyond the far away.

And be the method past within my power,

Then lash me to the poison poppy flower.

Today defiance held as my decree,

Tonight I feel he’s coming after me.

I thought I heard a footstep on the path,

A press upon my door by demon’s wrath.

On window near a finger lightly raps,

In corner of the night a black boot taps.

But I’ll sneak out this room before the dawn,

And far into the wood I shall be gone.