Death is here

 
Death is here, and death is here,
Death is busy everywhere,
All around, inside, underneath,
Above, is death and we are death.
Death has put its mark and its stamp
On all that we are and all that we feel,
On all we know and all we fear,
First our pleasure to die and then
Our hopes, and then our fears and when
These are death, and debt is due,
Dust claims dust and we too die.
All things we love and cherish,
As we must fade and perish,
Such is our rude mortal love itself.
They would, they did, and hate is too.