#InvisibleThreads

Oh, little mammy's girl had grown a little older,
Candles illuminated warmly but the girl's skin was colder.

Sailing upon a boat; memories flooded her mind,
Nirvana it is said to be and gives peace to the lowly mankind.

A lady sat behold; scythe in her hand and veiled in black,
Does she also have a soul like mine or has she lost her track?

The girl question her; "Who are you?",
"I am Death"; her voice laced with virtue.
...