Death's Mate

Under a starry night
Death crosses the lake,
Through the mist and tide
With a quiet resolve
The shore is cold
Among the reeds
There a young beautiful
Woman is exposed and weak
Death’s hand reaches out
And she rises to find
No pain to fight,
And light as a feather
Her heart soon soars
Like an owl in flight
No one hears her cry.
She then remembers
Her escort abides, she
Then prays her goodbyes
With one last tear
And journey towards
What she no longer fears