This came from a prompt from one of my classmates in creative writing I rewrote it though at home.

I have a secret nobody knows
When I dream of someone who dies
It comes true
What they don’t know is my fathers called Death
He lets them take their final breath
In some cases its a relief
To leave this tortuous life
End pain wracked old age
But I don’t like people to leave early before their time
I offer a prayer for those people
But sometimes matter just breaks apart
Before its time
I have heart so does my Dad
He knows that death is just a transition
Maybe the body of the dying makes a decision
To come back and learn more as somebody else?
My fathers never given me an answer.
But I hold his secret and mine
and one day it’ll be my time.