When sick with flu, Lord Death feels all too near
it is indeed a sleep by will desired
Without distress nor shedding of a tear
Perhaps our destiny has brought us here
Those who ‘re often truthful are still liars
At certain times we feel the death dance near
In the dark, the demons seem to leer
As wrestlers now they throw us on the pyre
Show no distress nor shed a single tear
We won’t inhabit life in subtle fear
We’ve been thrown and pinned onto barbed wire.
At evening time we feel our breath draw fire.
If only those I loved had lingered years
That I have been estranged in ruined choirs
Hiding my distress In sheets of tears
There is no rescue from these gnarled briars
Let God and nature warm me with sun’s fires
Winter- tired and weary, death lurks near
Greet the end quite calmly when it’s here.