As you lie, broken and so frail,
Empty and so pale
I look on your face, touch your face
I reach out and gently touch your face
And I feel the icy skin of Death,
And I see the cold pallor of Death-
As my fingers move across your skin,
They feel no such life emanating from within
No more life moves through your body
No more life lights up your eyes, opens your eyes
And you look to be the one named Death,
And you appear to be he whom they call Death-
Pulling my hand away, alone and afraid
And from my wide eyes, tears have now strayed
I move to touch my own face
I weep and gently touch my own face
And I hear the sweet whispering of Death,
And I hear the words whispered by Death-
They say, they say, the ringing in my head it says
“Weep not child, cry not child, for soon I will have you too
Soon my hands will enfold you too
Soon my hands will hold you too.”
And with that, so departed Death
With that he departed, whom they call Death-
And I, and I, I still await the day when he comes again
When he comes, he will come, for me again

 
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