Oh Grim Reaper, standing at the door,
Take me instead, please, I implore,
Transfer to me, whatever is within her,
I deserve the agony, for I am the sinner.
It appears that you punish,
Not the guilty, but the loved ones,
That scythe that you brandish,
Cuts HER heart, but makes MY blood run.
Cruel is the justice meted out,
Is this fair and if so how?
With one breath you can blow out,
Two flames, for I can’t survive now.
Have I been that bad? Did my cup spill over?
Is there no way for me to empty it and start all over?
Why give me life and a brain to think,
A heart to feel, a hand to ink?
If all the words you suck dry from me,
Devoid of air you ask me to breathe.
If there are any deeds left,
In my balance card,
Trade my life for hers,
I will pray to thee, hard.