Death – you cruel mystery!
The sweet worlds of many you shatter
Of loved ones – friends and family
Yet to you it doesn’t even matter.
Unfinished are the dreams of they
On whom you plant the icy kiss
That drains the breath of life away
And leaves a sign of your malice.
When my hours will have run their course
And the hue around will fade to gray
Be it at play or midst my chores
You may find me unafraid, I pray
For somehow you my life will claim
And I wouldn’t realize until it’s late
Yet my spirit lives free and will remain
Unconquered by the scythe of fate.