Birth and Death
Both must man face
For what in existence escapes the beginning or the end?
We plan for Birth
Celebrating her with gladness
Taking no notice of Death
How jealous Death must be
So why are you in awe that Death exacts his revenge in despicable ways on the fruits of Birth?
Laying in wait in the shadows
Springing in on the unsuspecting
He gets the last laugh on Birth’s children
But he doesn’t stop there
His cold hands now withdrawn leaves a trail of ice on the souls of those he leaves for later
Alas they have no inkling
For Birth warms them up with more of her fruits
They soon forget death exists