Pro-Noun

Death becomes you.

It radiates from you.

It is really something.

It comes from nothing.

You look in the mirror,

And it becomes clearer.

You don't want to succumb,

But still it you welcome,

With tears of joy.

With you it toys,

But you make things clear,

That it you don't fear.

It takes a piece here,

And it takes a piece there.

It leaves you living,

But wasn't it you that it was giving