As days go by
My body is still
Life goes on
But I never will.

Not after Death has trot
His horse up to my wandering soul
And beckoned me to take a hold
Of his hand, his skeleton hand
That took my breath and slapped my face
Down in the dirt and mud and waste
Such a disgrace!

I stood back up, brushing myself clean.
Then I spit in his face
Asking "Now who's the disgrace?"

As I turned to walk away,
He grabbed my hair with a fist to my dismay
Stared into my eyes with his abysmal sockets,
Whispering the words that still echo in my vacant skull:

"Impetuous mortal who shows no fear,
You are nothing, a speck of sand beneath my feet
I hold your pathetic life in my hands
I decide when to pull the plug.
Which is now..."