Work Text:
Cheth, Cheth, the Lord of Death
Call his name with your final breath.
Down the sands and grassy knolls,
Past the breakers and the sholes,
Below the waves ‘til you hit the ground
To where the boney fish is found,
White and black and gleaming red,
“Sorry, my dear, but you are dead.”
No need for dread, no time for tears,
This is the ending of your years,
Foul or fair, great or small,
True or false, he guides us all,
Struggle not, your time is done,
A final setting of the sun.
So prepare yourself, release your breath,
Open your eyes, and follow Cheth.
