Death stole into the room as a thief blackened
by night slips quietly past the crowds.
Shrouded in a garment unrecognizable to anyone around.

I stood exhausted by her bedside completely unaware that he had entered the room.
He waited patiently as he drew her nearer to him -- minute by minute as he sought to draw her to her doom.

Helplessly and unknowingly we waited for what the next second might hold ---
Trying my best to give her strength and within myself be bold.

She and I were too weak to fight him any longer, as we unwelcomely met him that Christmas Day morning.

I assumed Death was there even though I refused to look him in the face. 
I couldn't accept the fact that we might lose the race.

With every fleeting moment I engraved in my mind each line upon her face ---
As Death drew nearer to take his rightful place.

It was a sad Christmas morning as nurses and family stood around ---
While her Dad and I prayed earnestly that to this earth she would be bound.

All that we had been through seemed to be to no avail, as Death seemed to whisper,
"You have failed!"

He wrapped his strong arms around her, and scooped her from the bed ---
as I heard a faint whisper, "Jo, she's dead."

"This cannot be!" was my cry -- "Oh God, You just can't let my daughter die!"

Death would not listen, his job was already done.
For her flight to that heavenly city had just begun.

His exit was as swift as his entrance that day --
Nothing we could say or do would stand in his way.

Everything looked the same there upon her bed,
but Death had triumphed over her instead.

Death is mysterious, he's a stranger to us all --
But one things for sure -- to everyone he calls.