A Glad Bargain

[ADannon]

The march of time-
Not stilled by tender hands
Nor mind that seeks
To keep love safe, apart.

No wishful plea
Can keep death from its own,
The turning wheel
That steals life from the heart.

Could it be so
I would go penniless.
Glad bargains made,
My every sin confess.

I’d give my life
To keep grief from your door.
Then sell my soul
Become the reapers whore.

Would peacefully
Walk silent through that mist.
A smile sealed
On lips your own had kissed.