Every-one dies

by Manda Shasta
(Penn)

truly none are immortal
you cannot run from death
surly in his way
the reaper is spoiled
and he wanted me
as his obedient new pet today

He sang a tune of loneliness
a tune that beckoned me to say
'the thing having us tremble in fear
is a small spoiled child
a child with its cross to bear

He doesn't want to cause pain
or take one dear to you
he only wants to sing again
and disperse this net of solitude