You, death.
The pain to the victims and the accused.
The pain that opens gates,
For tears of shame and no return.
The misery and discomfort in the sight of the orphans.

You are the end to endless journey,
Of man and women.
The facilitator of hopelessness and shamefulness.
The tragic disaster of life.
The opposite face of my soul and their souls.

You, death.
I am not fond of you.
No one will ever be,
Nor shall be.
Be not proud of yourself.

For you came with pride, casual disdain, and confidence.
On the edges of sickness and loneliness.
Came with a mockery finger,
To mock the prayers of the believers and the gentiles.
Came like a bulldozer,
To bulldoze the houses of the village called life.

You came and they gave a fancy name:
To make us welcome you as one of us.
To make you a normal circumstance of our journey.
But no, no.
You will never be.

We try shutting our doors and windows.
To keep you out of our flesh,
To repute you as a friend nor a neighbour.
Merely, death.
You still hunting us.
You still following our path.

Oh, please, demise.
Remember your home.
Remember your origins.
Racal where you came from and return,
Return with your graves and monuments.
Return with the bucket of tears and pain that you accumulated From our spirits and hearts.

Heavenly father, Heavenly father.
I call upon your mighty name.
Summon him to return to his dark cosmos.
Command him to leave our flash and blood.
Death, demise, fatality.
Be part of history.
Be no more.