The Reaper To My Mother

How people meet death is a reflection of how they managed life,written for my mother .

                                            The Reaper To My Mother

If the reaper came,                                        Yet if they try to prevent,
Told you his name                                          The final event,
Said your to go with him.                                They'll suffer a fate of the same,

Would you be able to stand,                            If the reaper came, 
Give him your hand,                                        Told me his name,
Summon the courage within.                          Asked me to go with him...

Could you theorize the thought,
Of your own body rot,
Awaiting sweet smells of death,

Could you laugh in the face,
Of the whole human race,
grasping your last sickly breath,

And the people you love,
Whom are blessed from above,
Are excluded the pain of the game,