Sight

I look upon Death with dry eyes,
only the look upon his face,
can tell what lie3s astride.

When i see his scythe gleaming in the future,
I know what wounds that I must suture,
For with my final breathe, I know
that when my enemies surround me so,

Only then will my life be certain, and only then,
will I see such curtains,
as to cause me pain,
as to cause me anguish,

As though the vixen,
so slyly shed,
amongst the darkness,
above my head,

Carried forth,
without such dread,
As death repaid,
in my stead.