Death and His Games (I)

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Opens the door and walks right through,
I get a fever and I wake with a flu,
Says nothing but laughs and walks as though a guru,
I know he's here for another one
Woe to death and his games!

Taking a hit I fall on my knees,
Strong yet weak I begin to pray,
"Father, father thank you for your love and peace—
And for never letting me go or fall in dis-ease"

Glancing my way, He sees a bright light
He's pale and lanky and starts to run away!

I lay there weak and worthless with a pain in my head
Upon waking up to find out that my grandma is dead.

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