THE WHISTLE OF DEATH

Chizor Welle

Chizor Welle

Thursday 26 February 2026

Why…? Why, Death?

I see you coming to my door,

Silent, unseen, yet inevitable.

What strange and cruel thing you are,

Living free, yet taking freedom from us all.

You take our beloved,

Leaving only echoes of sorrow.

The young, the old, it matters not—

All fall beneath your shadowed hand.

The whistle of death blows,

And anyone who hears it

Is chosen to follow me.

I am all-knowing, all-seeing,

Master of the final journey.

I once was lost,

Caged in darkness, lonely and afraid.

Now I return,

To claim what belongs to me.

I will take your loved ones,

And watch from my chamber

As you weep and tremble.

Tears of sorrow will fall,

While I laugh—hahaha!

Fear not only me,

For I take without mercy or reason.

I judge not by age, nor strength, nor status,

Only by the call of my whistle.

Obey…

Obey the sound, for no one escapes.

The mighty, the fearless,

Even the chosen ones,

All must yield… to me.