close yet distant, tightening the life´s knot.
The self-consistent, vanishing but resistant,
too insistent, as an assassin´s assistant.
The life is in vain, our quest so hollow;
nothing will help, not even your sorrow.
You can be in pain, go hide beneath a pillow,
just like a whelp, unable to bow or billow.
Inevitable, no place she can´t reach;
unbearable, know that Death is a bitch.
Not curable for everyone in their lives,
the eligible, learn that everybody once dies.
A dining table can´t fool her starved wit;
no one can dish that he had survived it.
We are unable to count how many it slew,
she´s the last wish - the one - I don´t want to come true.
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