Not always creepy, he's bad news,
Some mistake him for a friend in need,
Knowing exactly whom he has to choose
And into his eerie kingdom lead.
Disguised as your late kinsman or a buddy,
He makes your departure less painful.
Not giving a hoot if you're not ready,
Though pretending to be touchy and tearful.
Visible just to the eye of his prey,
The angel blows a fuse if someone else spots him.
His hunt is fast, and the witness is blown away.
Together, they will form a combat team.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
looking at death on the other point of view.he can be the angel of all of us. bravo~nb
Thank you very much!