I died.
Twice.
They pulled me back both times
like fish from dark water,
lungs burning,
soul half-drained.

But death...
he didn’t snarl.
He didn’t take.
He just stood there,
still as gravity,
and smiled.

“Not yet, boy.
Not yet.”

No fear.
No fire.
Just a strange kind of mercy
from something older than gods
and more honest than heaven.

I don’t know if I’m grateful.
Don’t know if I’m angry.
I just know I’ve been seen.
And spared.
For now.