Two noble powers, Birth and Death
whose balanced struggle is catalyst for the rest
Birth starts a life that it's Death's job to take
with Birth's son, Love, and Death's son Pain
companions to hold 'til dust in a grave.

There once was a power who ruled beneath
he'd steal the lost and smite the weak
he held man's life in his cold, cruel grasp
without a moment of light to last
he'd visit the people, a harbinger sans ruth
bringing news of a barren, hideous truth
then steal away, fast as shadow rolls
bringing with him expired human souls
Death was ruthless, death was cold.
Death had no problems with himself to behold
he reveled in sadness, he thrived in blood red
he garnered his power from tears, victims shed.

Then one day, a golden beam of light
the one golden ray that Death cannot smite
a soft light beam was born at the crack of dawn
and Death felt something he knew was wrong
the baby girl, such a small babe
she grew up in safety, out of Death's way.

But Death could not keep away from her for long so light
he had to see her, be near her, so he visited her one night
he took not the girl, for then he could not even hope
but instead, her mother, whose thread of life he cut the rope
and the girl was saddened, desolate she cried
but Death couldn't find it in him to allow her to die
so he saved his visit to her for the last one he brings
visiting her father and brother next he came, slicing her heart-strings
but the girl became depressed and wished not for him
instead she pulled the dagger out on a hopeless whim.
The pain was too much for her to await her Death's part
she pulled the knife out and held it over her heart
and took her own life, robbed him of a visit such
and she passed to forever, without Death having one touch.