Death

A short poem on Death - The Silent Hunter

Death is great and it reigns
Drives its fangs, through every heart
The simple and the clouded,
The wise and the proud

None can shield, even kings must yield

It will smite life like an oblation
No man can stop or even behold the thought
When the time will come, you will pass

Our thoughts will glide, away and far

Time will erase your every hour
None can stop, no idols can hold
Memories may stay, but most will pass
The final drink to the one that reigns

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