Rose Petals

O’ Death, where is your Victory? You took the best Unfulfilled dreams Shattered lives Crushed hopes. Tasks begun, never completed Journeys undertaken, never ended Jobs started, never fulfilled. You reaped with your sickle, All the time believing that victory was yours. You took the great, the mediocre, the small Always believing you were in charge of it all. Leaving sadness, heartache, sorrow in your wake What a pathetic figure you make. Never caring about what you left behind Or what those left behind would find. Death, the solitary reaper they call you Coming unannounced, leaving lifeless bodies behind. People keeping appointments they never made As into your morbid plans, they played. O' Death, beware; your time is running out As the moments tick by towards that day, When the Lord descends from heaven with a shout And the graves shall release their dead. Where then, O' death, will be your victory? Instead, death shall be swallowed up in victory And you, O' Death, will be no more.