Death
Death, I'm told I should be scared of you,
you should be one of my greatest fears.
For you come for all, not just a few,
followed by abject anguish and tears.
Your presence is portrayed as a crime,
in your sinister cowl, grave and stark.
For history's maligned you through time;
a reaper of life, shrouded in dark.
But I find no malice in your deed,
you're as essential to life as birth.
Wisdom is born of logic and need,
and I've come to understand your worth.
We wear mortal bodies as a suit,
tailored to fit ego and belief.
But our souls are in constant pursuit
of release; our mortal time is brief.
You provide closure; life has to end,
opening doors for souls to walk through.
And I've learned to view you as a friend,
for life has no purpose without you.
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