A poem about death, how it is tragic, and sometimes serene.
|Death is always a mysterious thing,
Maybe even moreso than life.
It comes for you when you least expect it,
Like a burglar in the middle of the night.
But when life is taken from you,
In an act of cruelty and shame.
Sometimes one gets a second chance,
To ensure that another's fate not be the same.
So heed you this warning, ye doers of evil.
For your evil does not last long.
The poor souls that you take will come back,
And send you to where you belong.