death came to me in a dream
and unlike him it did seem
he wasn't a skeleton, rotted to bone
he was just a young man who was all alone

hated by everyone, except for me
he had came not to set my soul free
but to tell me that i must live and suffer
to take the life i was given, with no buffer

to dull the pain, to dull the hell
and that soon the smell
of corpses would fill the air
and then he gave me a odd dare

to live, and then he vanished into the mist
the fog curling around my skin in such a bliss
then i tripped and i fell and fell,
till i ended up in hell

death was there and so was Lucifer
he said that life was over, and time to suffer