The Deceitfulness Of Death

What is death
That we should mind it
Whose it's maker
This grey from splendid

The mascaraed of life
Death the end of strife
If joys could be stifle
Death would be its knife

Who is dead
Except those devoid of life
Who are the deceived
But those who have never lived

Death has no pain signs
Those are reserved for the living
The damned have joys
From freely taking whats not giving 

To be born again
The only clue to death
Again the  mock
Death the choice that's left

Time its test
Gratification in furlong
Mark the walking dead
They will be noted before long

God the author of both
The dead, dying or the living
His alone, for by Authority
The relationship to Him thus reveling