"Appointment in Samarra" poetry: a sonnet and a ballad.

This is my poetry based on the story, "An appointment in Samarra". One is a sonnet, one is a ballad.

Sonnet
Imagine, if you will, the face of Death
A-leering at you in the marketplace.
The very sight of it catches your breath
And sets your heart upon a frantic race.

Go home and beg your master for a horse
And gallop to a city miles away.
All things must come to men in their due course,
A servant cannot keep Death's will at bay.

Now imagine Death a-meeting a man
In that same ancient Baghdad marketplace,
Approaching with all the courage he can,
A question plastered on his nervous face.

You wave him away with an idle hand.
You have a meeting on Samarran sand!

Ballad
Samarra: a horse tethered to
A post for just one day.
Its rider dead, it's better to
Just send it on its way.

A man who has seen Death's visage
Cannot hope to live long.
Thinking it a simple mirage
Will soon to prove you wrong.

The servant's master paid the toll,
Arrived a day too late.
His fastest horse tied to a pole,
He took it on its way.

And Death with steady eyes regards
The master and his horse.
Death's grip, like winter's icy shards
Takes all men in its course.

For just one day ago he met
A servant in Baghdad.
His skeletal visage was set
To drive a servant mad.

And servants going round the bend
Hotfoot to Samarra
Where they will meet their timely end
At death's appointed hour.

Masters, when your servants ask you
For your best, fastest horse,
Take the time, just a moment to
Reflect on death's due course!