In a small coastal town, nestled between the cliffs and the crashing waves, lived a man named Samuel. He was an old fisherman known for his tales of the sea, where reality blurred with the whispers of ancient legends. The lines on his weathered face told stories of years spent battling the tides and facing the solitude of the ocean. Yet, despite his resilience, Samuel was acutely aware of the ever-looming presence of death, the sweet release that would eventually call his name.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Samuel gathered with his closest friends by the fire. The air was filled with laughter and the scent of saltwater as they shared stories of their youth and dreams long gone. But as the flickering flames danced, a heavy thought settled in Samuel's mind.

“If sweet death should ever come for me,” he began, his voice low and contemplative, “let me know, boys, let me know. If you hear him coming, won't you let me flee? Let me go, boys, let me go.” His friends fell silent, the camaraderie of the moment momentarily overshadowed by the weight of his words. Each had faced loss, and each understood the fear that hung in the air.

“You talk as if death is a visitor,” one of his friends chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood. “But we’ll be here to fight him off, Sam. You’re not leaving us that easily.”

Samuel smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. “One day, death is gonna conquer me,” he continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I’ll be down where the waters flow, and I hope sweet heaven is the place for me.”

As the night deepened, the stars twinkled overhead, a blanket of eternity shimmering above their heads. The waves murmured secrets to the shore, and Samuel's heart stirred with a longing for peace. He glanced at his friends, who were sharing tales of bravery, their laughter piercing the stillness.

“If sweet death should ever come for me,” he whispered again, “take me down to some place below. If you hear him coming, won't you set me free? Let me go, boys, let me go.”

His friends listened in silence, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that one day, they would each face their own farewells. Samuel looked around at their faces, illuminated by the firelight, and he felt a deep sorrow for the loss that lay ahead.

“If you hear him coming, won’t you sing for me?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t want to go.”

They nodded, understanding that his wish was not merely for the avoidance of death but for a celebration of the life he had lived and the bonds he had forged. Underneath the night sky, the promise of their friendship filled the air, binding them together in a world where love transcended the finality of death.

Together, they began to sing an old sea shanty, their voices rising and falling like the tides. The melody wrapped around them, embracing Samuel in a warm cocoon of remembrance, laughter, and hope. And as the night wore on, they laughed, cried, and shared their stories, refusing to let the shadow of death dim the light of their friendship.

In that moment, surrounded by his comrades and the eternal sea, Samuel found comfort in knowing that, no matter what the waters brought, he would never be truly alone.