I stepped into his carriage that day,

The day you left me at the party in my red dress.

His carriage, mysterious and alluring,

His gaze met mine, unwavering.

Clad in enigmatic attire,

A top hat, black glasses, and a cane with a folded head,

He seemed out of place, captivatingly so,

Leaving me transfixed in my seat.

He inquired why I was there,

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Inquired about the crimson gown I wore.

I confessed I'd been abandoned,

Claiming kinship with Satan's descent.

He chuckled, introducing himself

As Death, a smile adorning his face.

He offered a smoke, a gesture of ease,

Then escorted me back to the garden's peace.

Promising a future conversation,

He bid me wait for him, a few days later,

To delve into our exchange once more,

A rendezvous hinted at, intriguingly obscure.