Perhaps death doesn't look like a spectre with scythe after all.

I was supping the dregs from a bottle of gin
When the door eased open and Death walked in
In my stupor I felt neither fear nor surprise
For I'd planned for sometime to cause my demise
And Death far from being a sepulchral ghost
Had the plump smiling face of a genial host
He said as he sat in my favourite armchair
That he'd known for sometime of my current despair
And since he was passing nearby on a call
Had dropped by incase he could help me at all
He knew unsought advice was a terrible bane
But still thought it his duty to try and explain
That each life had been fashioned in purpose divine
And though I might use it it still wasn't mine
For to cut my span short by even one day
Would effect many others in some kind of way
There is no excuse for so selfish an act
Said death bluntly and I thought quite without tact
Ah I'm glad you've decided against such an action
Said he with a look of sheer smug satisfaction
I started my decision was only just made
With a wink he explained he'd been long in the trade
Then he leapt to his feet crying look at the time
I must go or be late for a client of mine
A most joyful affair of the pleasantest sort
With a charming old lady I have to escort
I said Death you're so different than I thought before
Eyes atwinkle he paused with his hand on the door
You may know sore sorrow much pain and great strife
But I am illusion there is only life