The Pitiful, Honourable Envy

I caught death's eye,
his occular rampart
out the corner of mine own.
I quivered in his cool majesty-
I cried under the steel weight,
and when I thought it was over,
he plucked me from my purgatous stew.

A story-telling Spartan,
one with no right eye
had a greater fortune of dodging the devil
I suppose.
At the very least he had a shield.

I have two blinking eyelids.