She comes unbidden — that’s the game she plays.

She calls you softly — and you won’t ask “which way?”.

She finds you always — no matter who you are or where.

She takes your hand — and you will follow there.

She’ll never ask you how old you are inside,

Nor care about your fortune, high or low.

She doesn’t judge if you are dark or light,

And she won’t ask what came before her, no.

She comes unbidden — that’s the game she plays.

She calls you softly — and you won’t ask “which way?”.

She finds you always — no matter who you are or where.

She takes your hand — and you will follow there.

She doesn’t care what zodiac you claim,

Your gender means no difference to her call.

An alpha jock or chubby, nerdy frame,

A vegan, punk, a hipster — or Interpol.

She comes unbidden — that’s the game she plays.

She calls you softly — and you won’t ask “which way?”.

She finds you always — no matter who you are or where.

She takes your hand — and you will follow there.

She’ll show up uninvited, with no sign,

At dawn perhaps, or in the heat of day.

In bed, on courts, or in a crowded line —

She’ll take your hand and: “Come,” you’ll hear her say.

She comes unbidden — that’s the game she plays.

She calls you softly — and you won’t ask “which way?”.

She finds you always — no matter who you are or where.

She takes your hand — and you will follow there.

And you, drawn in by secrets in her eyes,

You’ll walk ahead, ignoring all behind & deaf,

Along the path well-trodden up to us…

You’ll ask: “Who is she?” — Meet your Death.

She comes for everyone — and soon she’ll come for you,

Without a name, without a word, without a tear or sigh.

She’ll speak to you softly: “Come.” And you

Will follow her, no questions, no reply.