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Wicked Death

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Death is the sunrise we see assuredly
Negligent, none think of its constancy
None protest night that comes inevitably
As is Death whose victims he may foresee

Death is the weed that sprouts without warning
His power, we always fail to accept
Ruthless, the weed will kill all protesting
Death is something we must learn to expect

Life can survive, but it will be thirsty
Friends may betray friends and act with no sense
Kings shall cower and beg for Death’s mercy
Love will fade and declare Death too immense

While men can breathe at will with certain ease
Always, wicked Death prevails to displease





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