15 May 2012
"I'm that shape in the shadows, Your worries and fears, That smog in your nightmare, The pain in your tears, I'm the thief of your heart, Your shuddering shiver, I'm that icy cold breeze, I make you age and whither. I'm the mercy at the end, The shadow who takes your hand, I'm the one that helps you up, When it's your last time to stand, I'm the one who helps you onwards, The one that sees you grow, The one that has the power To stop your passing slow."
And so Death took my ageing hand, A saint of irony, And made me reconsider His well-known tyranny.
Death The Saint. • Opuss № I