To the emissary of death

You arrive but with two left legs
Juggling nothing yet to offer suspicions
Of what your real intent or message could be
For carriers of good and evil are one
As goods are goods but not different
Until the package and the trim
Are ripped off to reveal and unveil
The goodness of God or the wickedness
Of the sons of men, for
No one sees the heart, and so
We depend on a higher power to repel the emissary of misery

Bose