I touched the hand of death.
I looked right in its depth.
It carressed me with its gentle touch
and then sent me on my way.
It is not your time,
I heard it whisper.
Not yet, it continued to say...
I blinked and wondered-
but still it spoke.
Go back to time,
go back to you...
Bide it well, it vaguely said.
For when I next come calling,
you will know-
and peace shall be your friend.