I’ve Been Waiting

An old man lies in bed at dusk,
The air is stale like ancient musk
His breath is short and quickens fast, 
The sun still shines through tainted glass,
And as I stand beside his bed, 
I hold his hand, caress his head,
The sun, it sets, within the vale,
The darkness comes, the moon is pale,
And as he sees through glassy eyes,
The nighttime beckons purple skies,
The candlestick to light the room,
Is ever longing for its plume, 
And as the sun sets to the West,
He knows this is his final rest,
I stand beside his bed and smile,
With yellow teeth and breath of bile,
And as I lean in close to him, 
With softer darkness setting in,
Through grinning blackened tainted lips,
His white translucent fingers grip,
And now his open eyes agree,
On something that he cannot see, 
I whisper in his senile ear,
In voices no one else could hear,
That fill his eyes with dread and fear,
The passing of his life is near, 
And as he takes his final breath, 
I show myself: as I am death,
See, I have watched you as you grew,
I’ve seen you live so strong and true, 
With analytical review,
And now I sit and guide you to, 
The other side, a world anew, 
I hold a hand as you pass through,
To cash a chip that’s long past due,
For I have waited long for you.