HE, HIMSELF, DEATH
HE, HIMSELF, DEATH
I’ve sauntered through the centuries
Constructed this dark legacy,
Possessed the air of leprosy
And fell upon my feet.
I’ve wrangled with the unprepared
Pacified the truly scared,
Unsuccessfully repaired
The dread of when we meet.
I’m there when life is waning
Through the thrall of death, abstaining,
Till there’s little left remaining
But a husk of sand and earth,
I’ve marched with every army
Rode the crest of each tsunami,
But they seldom ever harm me
For I know perdition’s worth.
I’m the tourniquet you shy from
I’m that final, lasting swan song,
I’m the emperor of the throng
That no longer has a voice.
For they’ve paid their solemn dues
As their light of life’s removed,
Now my wiles are set on you
And you really have no choice.
Now when the end’s encroaching
With A wisp of me approaching,
You’ll cry and whimper, hoping
That I’ll spare your sulking soul,
But that’s not in my nature
And there is no power greater,
And I’ll never return later
‘Cause it’s time to pay deaths toll.
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