Death on a Bridge

I sit on the bridge, my cloak beside me. So many have run from my touch, afraid of what I bring. For my touch is cold and the last you will feel. When darkness falls I will have to pick up my mask once more but for now I sit and enjoy the flow of water and the feel of wind on my skin.

So leave me be if you see me. Let me relax from my endless rounds, for Death will come to you soon enough. Let me enjoy wind and I will let you live one more night.