It slowly walked towards me,
Despite all the heavenly pleas.
And held my hand with its scaly dry hand,
With the scythe in the other,
Guaranteed me eternal scourge.
It came with a hood,
Mask covering the face that no gaze has lived to describe.
Its magnificence of the hood shall drive insane.
It lives beyond the mortal plane.
He took me home along with sorrow as a bribe.
Only some can fool it,
Fewer can forever escape.
It has no structure, no shape;
No one lives to take its hit.
Neither thorough luck, nor prayers will come to play.
For it has the final say.
Rustling through the pages of everyone’s fate,
It’s neither early nor late.
It bears a weary look,
And its coming has everyone shook.
All call it unholy, Beelzebub's messenger & devilish
Yet it never fails to abduct with no last wish.
Most fear it,
Only the most gallant open arms to it.
No one can win any blitz.
I let him take me away,
For it will drop me here again.
After, restoring my sanity again.
For it will drop me here again.