It's Death again – He's always there – Watching, waiting – e'er the stare! Every time I look behind Or reach to pull the window blind, I catch a glimpse of grubby hood – A little clue to where he stood; The glint of light that caught the scythe. Perhaps if I could pay a tithe… But O! no use, he'll never go. The adamant phantom; don't you know He will but wait until it's time For me to hear His fateful chime? – The toll that claims my destiny, To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…' BY : Mark R Slaughter