Catch My Death

I took your hand, you took my breath

From my lungs, to the hand of death.

Slipping through the shadows without a sound,

Sipping the truthful elixir you found

Would blunt the edge off your lost desire—

Dull the ache and extinguish the fire.

Night comes soon enough, fetch the light—

This is all you are are—all you were was not right.

So I'll learn to let my bottom lip quiver,

When you sit next to me down by the river

We found together in the opulent glade;

I can't remember how long we stayed.

My eyes grow so very weary so I plead

For you to grab the reins and lead

Me softly towards a restful sleep,

And wait patiently while I weep.

For I am not the man I wanted to be,

With age he seems to evade me

To the point I forget to take a breath,

Surely bound to catch my death.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com