• Death is a feared thing,
    We cower in fear from it,
    We think it wont come to us,
    But we know its just around the corner,
    Just waiting,
    Just waiting to pounce upon us,
    And rip our soul from the mortal case,
    And then throws it away,
    And waits for an Angel to come pick it up,
    And give it to God,
    Or for a Devil to snatch it away,
    And throw it into the searing heat of Satan's pit