what of the precious time we have all lost,
is it gone, never to be recovered,
that it is, but we will all pay our cost,
when your life's over; death is discovered.

death's grip is final, and you've no
more time,
yet you have no regrets, your life was great,
your tale's over, but now begins your rhyme,
death's world is yours, you choose to love
or hate.

now among death's collected souls you live,
free to do anything that you so please,
but life is something that you cannot give,
it's locked away, and death has all the keys.

so don't waste precious time that you're given,
because in death's realm; you're not forgiven.