The seeds of sorrow sow themselves in,
The poor earth that is us.
The moonlight beams through the beaten down trees,
Death is here, you’ll pay for your deeds.
An immortal tyrant of terror rules,
Truly forever, it rots the world.
The seconds pass by as minutes begin,
A shining light although it’s dim.
For there is nothing that time cannot crumble,
It eats away happiness, like worms eat dead flesh.
They squirm and scurry through the dirt of the grave,
Eating a soul that acted so brave.
With every problem there is a solution they say,
But the solution may come too late.
Sickness fades and wars end,
A doctor comes round to cure and mend.
Then who is truly to blame,
Death is but a puppet forced to do a job it may hate.
He does his job night and day,
Listening to what the master will say.
For every puppet there is a puppet master,
It must be heartless to order the death of so many helpless things
Or is it?
Is it evil, is it sin? Or is it
Waiting bored in the pit.
