Azrael

I am the dust of desert dunes and the chilly wind of death
I am the waves on the oceans of blood, and the knives and swords to shred the
just
I am the time, the withering and the withered, as well as the thorns,
burning and sharp
I am the rain of lust that wets the chaste, and the torch that ends your life
I am the one whose name still the hearts and the silence their breaths
I am the one who speaks your name, weakens your fall into my cold arms
Just waiting for that kiss of my scythe
«Both fool and the wise
One thing is certain — that life flies
One thing is certain and the rest flies
The flower that once has blown forever dies»
I stand above you whispering low
You know not what into your ear
Of my strange language you all know
As there is not a word of fear
Azrael