DEATH

Death is a hole
A deep dark desolate hole
Where not even the faintest light
Can pierce its misty darkness
Where grown men run
In blind panic
Attempting to keep their souls
But its omnipotent grasp
Is too strong
Its mind too intelligent
The men lose
Their souls become ITS
It blankets their world
And suffocates their essence
Death always wins
Becaus DEATH is a hole
A deep dark desolate hole