The Dark Artist

Death, A fate foretold Since the beginning of time Master of time, Misunderstood, And feared by many. Some say your power is a curse Some a blessing Emancipator of souls, Bestow freedom On my poor soul. Trapped in this prison of torture Called a body, Which places limits on my true potential I understand you, Hiding behind broken hearts Are benevolent intentions, A noble purpose Bringer of peace, You give rest to those tired. You free those soldiers Trapped in a game of kings A dark artist. I see the beauty in your work. With your scythe You paint a masterpiece, With your scythe You write a magnificent tragedy. You are the perfect ending To our tragic story