Post by willowdown on Jul 16, 2009 22:59:35 GMT -5
The smile of Death is sweet,
His breath is full of roses;
Beneath the Hill, where dead men dance,
The circle is complete.
The eyes of Death are pure,
His touch is like the Sun;
Beneath the Hill, where all flesh fails,
There is an open door.
The song of Death is true,
It's music is refined;
The harp Death plays is old as time,
But each man's death is new.
The kiss of Death is chaste,
His arms are white and strong;
In Death all truths are magnified,
And all lies laid to waste.
The love of Death is mine,
I melt upon his lips;
Within his bosom Angels weep,
And all is made sublime.
Upon Death's breast I lay,
My heart against his pressed;
In Death's dark eyes bright stars arise
And dawns a brand new day.
All Death's children sing
Beneath the shadowed Sun;
But when all suns set in the west,
He takes them 'neath his wing.
The smile of Death is sweet,
His breath is full of roses;
Beneath the Hill, where dead men dance,
The circle is complete.
