Death

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It takes you when least expect it,

Comes for you when your're not looking,

Doesn't care if you want to go,

Not one bit.

It grips you with both hands

and refuses to let go.

Takes you towards either the light

or the dark.

Heaven or

hell.

One in the clouds,

All fluffy and white.

One under the ground,

With not one ounce of light.

It can be a good thing.

Could rid of a life of misery,

A life of pain

and of heartbreak.

So go when it comes for you

let it, don't fight it.

Let it hopefully take you towards the light,

towards a new life of peace and tranquility.

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