Death

I’ve seen death, the sister of life, she strikes hard, like a knife. So misunderstood, so hated for the misery she created. She isn’t as bad as she seems, for she is a queen, always in control and all-powerful, she is not colorful in contrast to her sister. Black, grim, and cold, she carries her great sword of gold, slaying lives in the millions. We will meet her one day, asking her why she caused us such dismay. She is seen as a killer to you and me, taking the lives of our loved ones. Her sisters gives, and she takes, her role is seen as a mistake, when really she isn’t bad, she’s is a pain killer, in my eyes she’s a winner. She relieves the pain of this life, except she carries a strife.