I ,Death,am not as old as Father Time.

The earth on your feet is of greater age.

I was born,grown,on the scene of a crime;

a shepherd,the prey of his brother's rage,

lies dying,bloody,battered on the ground;

besides him are the fruits of root and vine,

but his murderer?,nowhere to be found

This is my birth:blood and teary eye's brine,

for my father cried as he breathed his last;

His heart heavy with his siblings treachery,

their love became a token of their past,

twisted into hatred by jealousy,

spurred on by their desire to serve the sea

to whom we are but drops of reality