Death is bittersweet
Death is loving as well as cold
Death comes to all either young or old
Death is a flower
It blooms and spreads, starts as something unappealing
But will always end in something more beautiful with plentiful meaning
Death is the rose of my life
My beauty and my life
I cannot live without death
Death is the cloud that shrouds some
But to me….
Death is my savior.