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Wicked Death
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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