Death wears white, to remind him of life,
his horse-head scythe, gleaming so bright,
in sunken skull eyes, in most dreaded of night.
When death shook brittle bones, with life's riddle soul
Death made clear, without he, life wouldn't be there.
Life made more clear.
When first life breath spoke.
When first heart woke.
Death was born, and in wait, for only life determines fate.
What ever grim reaps and takes,
I life, can make when I am willed,
you death hold an hourglass, permission to kill.
Before time was tilled, I was first.
To give birth.
You will never understand death, until you walk with his feet for a while.
Death will never understand life, until he's lived a life time
So, when it's your time, and you see that light,
be at peace.
For death wears white