OF DEATH'S REAP

Sister death, came for my father, this morning.
It's a pain that never goes away.
By his stone, I'm sitting.

I should have known,
by the tone of his voice;
his corpse, forever to bury--
sister death, came for my father, this morning.

Of death's reap, the scribe is free.
The brow, no longer weary.
By his stone, I'm sitting.

Mortality an' Vitality must co-exist!
She's un-nerving.
Sister death, came for my father, this morning.
re-calling his entombement,

can be vulture like;
to many sleepless nights.
I'm sitting by his stone.

Resting in peace, father, is in God's care.
My goal: be with him one day.
Sister death, came for my father this morning.
I'm sitting by his stone.