The Death

Death, no man could escape your jail term,none
One day, an homage visit shall pay to someone
By you,It could be either you or me
Such,who has had its term lapses
Neither rich nor poor shall have you in rapses

There none the man,who can challenge
Your convinction and incanceration with legal damage
As being a judge who you are
There truly would be someone who will say ah!
Where is my father,so my mother too
Which would divide their minds into two
I know there would be a day,very true
That you would put the call through
Which kings and queens would receive
And their heralds and maids would be submissive
To the stiffness of their masters in matter
Because they too would be in anxiety
Waiting for their own toaster in tatter
Who would clip their lips with piety

A position would rise to stop you
But no matter what, he would loose to you
In the end,because he dares not touch heaven's fire
With babyish finger in his nightmare desire
As he would become a looser who later fire

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