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.