DEATH, O DEATH!

Not knowing, how
I bequeathed thee
Overt pleasure
At thy end

And

When I was alive
You, drew
Many curved lines
To play with my portrait
Bestowing all, that
Was soaked, by
Tint of your life-shades

And when time came nearer
To decant thy passion
You bleached
The whole canvas
Doing away
My joy
My all

And,
When I
Pull your memory
You play hide and seek
Framing no rules;
Death, O death
How sweet thy bed!