Chronicles of the Dead

 
I often wonder about those who are not ready to go under
Quietly praying while laying down in their death bed
Crying while they’re helplessly trying to catch their breath
Filled with remorse and regret for the things they said
 
I constantly ponder on those whose lives were squandered
Not accepting a vaccine for a disease they could’ve prevented
Unanswered prayers and faith were cut by a real-life wraith
Lamenting for rejecting a present that was widely presented
 
I hear of repentance when a virus has given a death sentence
As they slip into the darkness in which many do not return
Sending messages to family and friends when they see the end
While some are so stubborn and ignorant they never learned
 
Is it suicide? Choosing to side with a widespread neglect
Is it murder? When they are exposing others to this damnation
And if they are truly conscious of their actions, do they question
If the maker will judge them for killing and self-annihilation?
 
Chronicles of the dead are words from those in their death bed
They chose not to believe on something they couldn’t perceive
Now the angel of death walks amongst us with wrath and lust  
Because they were lied to, they were misled, they were deceived