by Morgan Maddox

Death smiles at me again today.
I see his sly grin flash
as I rush through the chaos of life.
The smile forces me to stop,
my eyes grow wide, my breath grows faint,
I feel like stopping my breath altogether.

There are some days where
Death does more than smile.
His long fingers graze at the
Sleeve of my shirt, and my heart falters. 
Many nights of sleep are plagued by
his cold breath in my ear.

I know he’s arrived by
the air becoming stiller, 
my blood running colder.
One day, when my eyes
are on something else, I fear
Death will finally sneak up on me.

I hope, though, he will finally 
come with an announcement, 
and it will be followed by
cymbals crashing, 
doors slamming, 
feet stomping.

Whenever that day comes, 
I want to counter Death’s cold smile,
with one of warmth and say, 
“You know where to take me,
Heaven is waiting. My family is waiting.
My God is waiting.”

Because you see, Death, you can smile now,
But I know something you don’t.
You were never going to win.

Morgan Maddox is a college student attending University of Georgia studying English and Religion. She is an emerging author and poet, and she enjoys writing fiction and poetry focusing on religious themes, cultural and social issues, and family. She is currently working on her first novel and a book of poetry which she hopes to publish in the near future. She enjoys being involved in her campus ministry, reading, and spending time with her cat.