Майсурадзе Михаил Васильевич: другие произведения.

He is Death

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The Earth is full of dying men;
They cry for peace and happiness,
Nobody can give them a hand.
They die becouse of wounds and stress.

Heartless and mindless, stupid bad guy
Is killing the people who wants to live;
He comes in the morning, he comes in the night,
He has big black gun in his long sleeve.

His name is not known, exterior - too;
He is invisible like air around.
He is not clever, he is the fool,
But he still can not be found.

He's going where you're going this time;
When you are broken, he stands on your path.
You can run, but you will never hide
From his eyes and his arms, couse he is the Death.

You're not the one who suffers so long;
You can't breathe; you seem to suffocate;
And angels above you are singing a song.
You wanna stay, but now it's too late.

He takes his big gun out of sleeve;
He shoots in your head. Your brain's on the floor.
You wanted to live, but you'll never live,
Couse he is the Death and he came for your soul.

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