The face of Death is the most deceiving
Always coming, always leaving
A small smile crawls across the palest lips
He may seem kind, but when you trip
He will just smile and let you slip
As you fall you see behind
The coldness that had once been kind
He sometimes runs,
But that's no fun
He likes to watch and take his time
To Death, that fear is quite sublime
First, the small amount of golden fear
Comes creeping in, so close, so near
They try to pretend that they don't know
But trying it can only show
To him that you will take the hardest blow
Afterwards, they feel the cold
As their bodies seep into the mold
Of Fate, the cause of their sudden demise
Although he is not very kind
Death can be awfully wise
He knows just who is to remain
But he also knows who is not
He waits on childrens' doorsteps
He smiles through the windows
He laughs as they try to run
You can not always see him, as he's often in the shadows
You won't know when,
But every once in a while
He'll glance in your windows
But if he knocks on your door
We won't be seeing you anymore
