O Death Poem by Adams King

O death is nothing man can cure
and sits on our shore
O death has swallowed men for long
In ways so right and wrong
O death do end all storybook
both Matthew, Mark and Luke
O death wicked is your dirty teeth
that eats old and crawling feet
O death await my precious soul
but where and when I do not know
O death will one day come for me
and what will be will surely be
O death shall come for you also
So my friend prepare your soul