How does death choose?

Who we lose?

How does it pick them?

Each victim.

I wish it hadn't picked you.

I had no choice as your voice

just faded away,

and day after day

I would pray

and pray

that you'd stay;

So I could believe

you wouldn't leave,

but wiping tears on my sleeve

I knew what Death would do

and it would take you away.

I watched you on the hospital bed

And spoke to God in my head.

I said it couldn't be fair that you were there,

and as long as I stared

I still could not see

why it had to be.

I wish I could have given you a breath

for each tear that I cried,

and I wish now and forever that you had remained

remained alive.