The power of life is strong.
Long, but short.
It's like a sport.
Tort life and it be comes strife.
Day, Night, Light, Dark. Can it be that life is here?
But like death is it something we fear?
Near the end of life.
The scythe of death it draws near,
The eyes in a mere haze.
Leaves his gaze.
Some see their end with a knife.
The man in white has a sheer height.
You open your eyes.
He saves you.
You ask what is this.
God answers.
It's life.
