The Mist of Death

Not my greatest, yet again...I haven't written for a few days, so I'm a little rusty. Just please comment

This mist of death
washes over me
the Reaper's breath

Death creeps closer and creeps near
I can feel it, pricks in my spine
but there is no such thing as fear

I can see the death blow coming
but I don't flinch away
I stay there, anticipating and humming

my favorite song
ignoring the hit
and my skull rings like a gong

This wind of dying
brings blight
and shows me lying

Yet I don't run, and I don't hide
There is no point in running
from the Two Faced killer, Jekyll and Hyde

He can come from anywhere, be anyone
hide in the shadows,
or snipe me with a high powered gun

But I still don't fear the inevitable
We all die one day
and this way is veritable

Don't shy from stuff like this
there is no point
for once you die, there is eternal bliss

Or so the bible states
but I'm going to h*ll
since I masturbate

Aw well, I don't care
and I wont resist
No, I don't dare

Whats the point in resist
and fear
when you are washed over, in the death's mist