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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Death walks around like thief in the night looking for someone to start a fight; it knocks on every door with an AK47 rifle in its hand and a barrage of bullets in a container strapped to the carrier’s body. It was sent on a mission to kill and bleed the blood of the strongest man living on top of the hill. He has a collection of them and room fill with assorted rifle stacked away in a basement beneath another basement, it’s like vault within a vault with ammunition and cash sealed up in a thousand bag and canine dogs on every corner looking out for the intruder. Death peeps over the hill chopping down trees and the penetrating the land with the burning heat. It spreads on the surface of the ground, burning the sole of man in a hundred and ten degrees while the fountain of life swims on the shore and the thirsty earth stands still asking for more. The ducks gather in the middle of lake, swimming with the little one's hand in hand and curious visitors gather around taking pictures of the swimming ducks moving up and down the lake in a special pattern that caught everyone’s attention. It was unusual and unique and everyone was talking about it in the street but the focus was on the mother ducks and how it feed the little ones while swimming on top of the lake. When death knocks at your door, don’t be anxious to open it, go to the backdoor and scale the wall next to the door with a baseball bat and the crucifix waving in your hand. If the intruder is still there, hold the crucifix in front of him and wave it three times and whisper a silent hymn to the tune of John Wesley and his battered ship at sea. You will take his rifle and place it on the ground and scatter the bullets around the town. They set up like wolves in the night howling like dogs and watching the skies, hundreds of them gathered around a secret fire with rifles in their hand and each with a different assignment to terrorize the land, Death asks no questions it enters like a breeze, sometimes it coughs loudly and ends with a woeful sneeze. When death strikes it strips the covering off the land and move the gravity from underneath your feet. And just as they were about to move the earth began to shake scattering everything all over the place and so the bloody assignment fell through the earth covering everyone in the dirt. You were all on a hit list but nature respond in time with a woeful bliss. They all perish beneath the earth, rifle and man perishes in their own wrath. Nature always responds and you need not ask any question.
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