How Death Comes
Sleep is his other name
We know he lives near by
He shows up at any time
With his bag to steal the lives
He comes like as a thief
When we least expect him
He doesn’t inform any of the time
Sometimes we predict from the signs
If we see him we’d chase him
Then crucify him if we catch him
So that he never wakes again
O that vile enemy of men
He stings like a bee
Whosoever he sees
Both young and old
Even they who have gold
The chief thief who steals the most valued treasure
Leaving behind agony and hopeless minds further withered
On one side shocked and frightened, the other caught in disbelief
If death was a person, tell me who’d dare forgive?
Who can be too careful?
Who can be too wise?
To evade him in his alluring disguise?
Who can find his sting less painful?
Generation after generation endeavor
To eliminate him from among us
But it seems he is here to stay
So maybe we should leave this place.
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