Death's fated End

A Story by DRD

A Story based on my religion.

Six days grace, she gave. For it was six days she waited. Her daughters body she held, for six dark days is fated. No tears were spilt, no sounds were made. For death is silent even in six days morning paid. Death is not known for sorrow or hate. But even Death can be saddened and made late. For it was 23 and six days her daughters body was in this world. But it was only six years her daghter lived. And when Death stood on the seventh day, A single tear did fall to wreck the world it said it all. Then Death did what never should have been, She placed upon her a curse that knows no end.. Six days it will take fate to decide, what to do with the girl in which Death does hide.

This girl in which Death does hide, will live a daughters life of which she has never known. 23 years she will live,but six days her spirit will linger. Then move to a new host its fate will decide. Only the dead daughter Death will take, still born and six minutes late. Made living and wholewith deaths soul, but only 23 years to date. What happens at death to this girl, her daughters death she replays at will. Remember the story says the mercy of Death, for she knowns none of her own. For it was Deaths own Death that gave us this mercy to be left alone. For Death knows only pain and she keeps us from feeling it. So remember Deaths mercy so it was writ.

Beware Deaths daughter, the broken link. For she never lies. Beware Deaths own defeat, for the lost childrens cries. Broken the Sacred vow she does say, You have but one day. Forced upon the worlds unbroken law, A war will bring no peace but no blood more shall be shed. Into the light we leap, but tis Deaths darkness that e keep. To A false god do they makes us pray, locked in rooms of white. With souls of gray. Bring to me Death does command, the last of my line. So do they bring a child of black,a child hand in hand. Forewarned we have told you yet continue on you do. Forsaken the warning of a child no more. To keep knocking on the locked door. What do you do, when theres no child to bring. Plead for mercy, yet listen for a seerer to sing. A song of a child broken yet whole, and a story of an unbound soul. A woman of 20 wishing for repreive. A woman of 20 expecting to live only to 23. Softly spoken are the words, gently taken is the song. To do what is best not for self, but to right the wrong. The words tell a lie, read between the lines. Watch for the weary traveler, who follows no road signs.