Fear of death

Fear of death

Church bell rings so painfully clear
I never knew his hour could be so near
I step out into the unfeeling bitter cold
Wearing black and a silver cross that I hold

I stand in silence, head bowed in respect
Staring at the flowers, beside the wooden object
The women touch their hearts and try not to cry
Such a young soul gone, can’t help but wonder why

If only they knew, if only they saw
They could not see because of blinding awe
But I knew him, a man of darkness and night
Seeing through red, through hatred and spite

And always running, always running
No one ever knew what he thought was coming
But I think it was fear of this hour
That in his mouth left a taste that was bitter and sour
He was hanging in fear of his very breath
Fear of everlasting sleep, fear of death.

By Grace (Alioc)