If Death came to me,
What would I say?
Would I choose to go?
Or would I want to stay?

If I chose to go,
Why would that be?
What would make me leave life oh so suddenly?
And what on earth would I last see?

Would I see the heavens-
All beautiful and bright?
Would I see the sun,
Or a cloudy sky?

Would I see a sunset-
In its colors of gold?
Would I see a lake-
So beautiful and bold?

Would I then see home?
And the people I love?
Would I be sent back an angel,
As help from above?
Would I see a beach?
And a million fireflies?
Would I see happiness’s true disguise?
And would sorrow finally apologize?

And what can I think of,
That would make me leave home?
What could it be,
That would force me from my world?

Would it be the memory,
Of our last night?
Would it be because,
Of our fateful fight?

And if I chose to stay?
Why would I do so?
What could I think of?
That would make me say no.

Would it be the memory of my grandmother’s hug?
(It was something that filled me with warmth from bottom to above)
Would it be because of a baby’s laugh?
(I was wrapped around her finger when she did that.)

Would it be because of a kiss goodnight?
Would I stay with the hope of feeling that another night?
Would it be because of a proud feeling?
Being filled with warmth, with no rhyme or reason?

So what will I choose when Death asks me;
“Is the past enough and are you ready to leave?”
What if he offered to come another day?
Would I choose to go?
Or would I want to stay?