Death, I know that you can sting
Poison my wine, I will drink
For if I begin to count
The knives, arrows and bullets
You have put into my chest
The ears that hear will go deaf
For eyes that saw still shed tears.
Death, I know that you can bite Between those claws and white teeth
I give you reasonable doubts
Not because, am scared of you
Nor because, am weak to fight
But, that stinging bees build hives
And ants that bite, still build hills.