Angels falling from the sky,
Alone in a corner I sit and mourn.
Suddenly I see him,
The dark silhouette approaching,
He is neither man nor beast...
He's simply death,
The grim reaper fiinding his way to me,
Holding an out-stretched finger at my heart.
He beckons me to follow him,
I want to refuse,
To tell him no...
But...
Something draws me nearer this dark figure,
A force I can't escape...
Is it truly my time?
Why can't I turn away?
I look into his eyes for the first time,
The hurt and burdens he must carry,
Death holding all the pain of those lost...
Then I realize,
Death isn't bad...
He's just doing his job,
And like the rest of us...
He's tired of the bullshit reasons for having to work...