It's Death again - He's always there -

Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!

Every time I look behind

Or reach to pull the window blind,

I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -

A little clue to where he stood;

The glint of light that caught the scythe.

Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…

But O! no use, he'll never go.

The adamant phantom; don't you know

He will but wait until it's time

For me to hear His fateful chime? -

The toll that claims my destiny,

To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'