As soft and smooth as silk,
Coaxing my soul to follow
On that short sweet walk?
Or will death arrive like thunder,
Like a frightening storm at sea,
Roaring, raving and angry,
Grabbing my soul from me?
Will death be a lovers hand
Smoothing o'er my brow?
Or is it fierce and frightening,
Like lions on the prowl?
Oh, how will death arrive?
As thunder during rain?
Or might I look on death
As a friend to end my pain?
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