For those who've seen,
or worse yet shaken,
Deaths' hand leaves, but little trace.
Unharmed they seem,
don't be mistaken,
Death scars all, who've seen his face.
They fail to sleep,
from nightmares waken,
Death holds strong, in his embrace.
At night they'll weep,
all peace forsaken.
Death befouls, who've met his gaze.