Death

I saw those men who dig their graves.

Even saw those who dig others.

They might be blind folded,

As the Truth is hiding himself.

I wish I could tell them,

They shall lie in the same,

Taking their deeds with themselves.

Hiding their cold hands

And shutting the eyes which never opened.

Now paralyzed their body,

But mind paralyzed since breathing.

Had frozen hearts

Which took pleasure in stabbing the fleshy hearts.

Mirror never told them their stories.

They lied, as they didn't had the sight.

They shall run from their graves,

But shall always find them behind.

Death is what we work for,

As every glory leads to death.