Death
The gentle, cold breeze roams the lifeless night.
In the gloomy, yellow glow of moonfull,
The clock strikes twelve, it begins.
Out of the frozen ground it does come.
First, it is but a gray mist.
A form does it become.
Form - be it man, woman, or beast.
Neither or nor is it.
Nearer and nearer, it does come.
Until suddenly! It is upon you.
Oh God! Why me!
You scream with your dying breath.
But why not.
If not you, then someone else.
However, do not fret,
For "death" comes to all.
The gentle, cold breeze roams the lifeless night.
In the gloomy, yellow glow of moonfull,
The clock strikes twelve, it begins.
Out of the frozen ground it does come.
First, it is but a gray mist.
A form does it become.
Form - be it man, woman, or beast.
Neither or nor is it.
Nearer and nearer, it does come.
Until suddenly! It is upon you.
Oh God! Why me!
You scream with your dying breath.
But why not.
If not you, then someone else.
However, do not fret,
For "death" comes to all.
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