The Angel of Death

Death is not a process
Nor is it natural
But death is an angel
A fallen angel
With a scythe in hand
And a cloak on his back
A shadow for a face
The Grim Reaper he's known
He comes when it is your time
When it is you time to die
He drops his hood
His face is now visible with all it's beauty
He place a on your lips
The kiss of death
Your life flashes before your eyes
At its last scene, it's time to say goodbye
Your heart stops beating
And You die





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