In autumn's slow dance
Came a knock at the door.
The sort that the man
Had heard not before.
'Twas free, without time,
Without reason or rhyme.
It was loud and inviting,
Yet cold at the core.

In autumn's slow dance
The door opened wide.
And death wandered in
With time at his side.
He glanced at the clock
And started to talk.
The man was implored
To hear and abide.

In autumn's slow dance
The man spoke to death.
"Why, death, have you come,
And stolen my breath?"
Death glanced at the clock
And started to talk.
The man was implored
To hear and accept.

In autumn's slow dance
Death put away time.
"What once was for you
So soon will be mine."
Death was amused.
The man was confused.
Quoth the man, sadly,
"What, then, is my crime?"

In autumn's slow dance
Death's purpose was clear.
"Your crime is the life
You have kept close and dear.
So simple it be,
Now come and be free."
The man was implored
To listen and hear.

In autumn's slow dance
The man held his gold.
And waited for answers
To questions of old.
"So wealthy was I,
But now that I've died..."
"Your money is worthless,
Your soul has been sold."

In autumn's slow dance
The man looked at his bride.
"Surely I mustn’t
Leave her behind."
"No one can know
The place you will go
Until it is time
And they, too, have died."

In autumn's slow dance
The man shook his hands.
"I, sir, was the master
And king of this land.
In life, yes,
So surely in death..."
Quoth death, most amused,
"You do not understand."

In autumn's slow dance
Death opened the door.
"The time has now come,
I will say this no more."
The man stepped with sorrow,
Surrendered tomorrow.
Death was loud and inviting,
Yet cold at the core.