A Death’s Visit

A shadow that looms in the corner of darkness, unveiled by light yet was covered by sadness.

A faint sound erupted from a person's footstep, like a ripple of water from a calm lake.

A hand so old like a withered corpse, holds a rose full of thorns.

In the corner of darkness, a drop of blood fall, a man's skull begin to roll.

The darkness continued as the shadow erupted, towering over something that cannot be decided.

The rose begins to dry as the thorn sucks the blood dry,

From the old man's withered hand and transfered to the reaching hand.

A soul leaves the body of the poor old man, leaving nothing but bones without plum.

As death approach, a new life erupted, from a room above, a babe in mother's embrace.

 As death leaves with its reward, 

a child's cry can be heard, full of life, so opposite of death.