Death is a Quiet Man

Death is a quiet man,

whose very presence calls forth strife.

But by far, he is no reaper of life.

Death is not a hunter in shadow clad,

For Death is perfectly cad.

He comes not with scythe raised.

He only approaches with a tired gaze.

For Death is weary from his eternal post.

Forever bound to guide each and every ghost.

Death is quiet and tired,

but ever forbidden to sleep.

For Death can never retire.

And so…

Death is a quiet man.