I am a servant of death at command of his breathe
He wills when I die, and defines mine conscience
Like a slave I toil to his tyrannical cadence
Love, live, I try, but I know I will die
A good man, I live as I can
For death I fear, that death may not be kind
So in my heart I peer and I find
Love, life, I try to be but death is all my heart can see
For pleasure I live, for pleasure doth give
All of what life does offer, sick with its shame
With pleasure I blame death and deaths name
Love, live, I try, but I know I will die
I pray to God overthrow death and his reign
But God answers with a voice of pain
Death is the end, to death thou I send
Love, live, I try but I know I will die
So I never ask the question why?

Kevin Michael Murphy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-s-servant/