Death is at the Door


It whispers to the night creatures, it whistles to the wind,

It dances with the shadows, and mingles with my sins,

Then murmurs very quietly, “Let me in, let me in,”

But I do not give up yet, I still have my hopes,

I’ll lie here very quietly to see if I can cope.

But when you think it’s finished here, there’s nothing left to claim,

Death waits for the sunrise, then rings the door again.

Then a voice fills the air, only Death’s of course,

It speaks of other places, it’s voice very hoarse.

Nobody answers the door for a while,

Yet still Death waits, patient as a child,

Then I open the door, welcome Death in,

For no one appreciates the other sin.

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