Death
A soft velvet blanket to cover and conceal
As men wait patiently for the comfort of eternal sleep
Death
A claw-like hand which reaches out
And points a bony finger towards the old
To call their tired bodies to his ranks
Death
A faceless vacuum
Deceitful as he sucks the souls from new born babes
Not meant to grace this world
Death
A hooded figure dark and cold
He stalks the battlefield
To claim the fallen soldier
To demand the slaughtered child
Death
His form mutates as he roams the world
His face contorts
As he calls your name
Death
Sometimes welcome, often feared
He shows no bias, holds no bent
He meets us all with equal love
His claim is life's true certainty
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