With scythe visiting every miserable is the angel of death.
Noting every story told in past.
It doesn't distinguish the poor from the rich.
Is a promise, a fate, a conclusion?

My good old friend, who had passed, have you saw its face?
Can I now go with you to the vales of eternity?

The benevolence of death
My beautiful friend, I will never forget.

With dark wings blocking the sun's glare.
Carrying the men to eternal rest.
No being shall live forever, the law of life in possession of death.
Is a promise, a fate, a conclusion?

The benevolence of death
I will never forget.

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