Here I stand. In the snowy ground My cheeks are red My legs are stiff To cold to speak, to move How long must I wait For you return? A day, a month, or two? But here I am And here I wait on you —
I find myself On a path of white The snow beneath Pure and light The wind is harsh Yet, I not cold As the Sun shines bright And in His warmth I find comfort.
Hello my name is Death I am no saint – I must admit You curse and scorn my name But you cannot wash away The truth of life I bring At which all must end and die.