Death who is pale and cold
He takes both young and old
His gaze sweeps 'cross the land
And all fall to his hand
He walks the fields of war
Where men fall to the sword
He haunts the scholars' hall
And spares no one at all
He rides a pale white steed
His every command it heeds
It bears him near or far
To where the dying are
Beware the Reaper's scythe
He comes to end your life
For always there is Death
When you take your last breath
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Death who is pale and cold
He takes both young and old
His gaze sweeps 'cross the land
And all fall to his hand
He walks the fields of war
Where men fall to the sword
He haunts the scholars' hall
And spares no one at all
He rides a pale white steed
His every command it heeds
It bears him near or far
To where the dying are
Beware the Reaper's scythe
He comes to end your life
For always there is Death
When you take your last breath
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