Death's footsteps echo chilling the mind
Following creeping ever closer to bring me down
Snatching away my soul, taking away the light
Engulfing within his shadow and power.
From birth he follow ever close bye
Waiting the chance to end life's journey
Banishing the body into the grave.
Death is master and measures our days
And can never be outpaced nor forgot
Making his presence known with funerals
And the grieving and weeping for the dead.
Old age enhances the fear of his coming
With the years passing so much quicker
And hope of Heaven far more pressing.