Perchance To Live

Death stalks me now in
Sneaky slinking strides,
Treading on the heels of my every footfall.
Watching; waiting.
Each breath I take in,
He holds his,
Always a sigh of frustration when I exhale.
And so he goes, constantly walking half a step behind me.
And I wait and worry and worry some more.
I see him in every mirror, feel him peering at me just out of sight
(but not out of mind.)
He whispers
His breath fluttering across my neck as I lie down to sleep
(forever? I often fear…)
For who can foretell the moment when the final grain of sand
Falls swiftly from the grand hourglass?
And yet I can almost hear the death-watch beetle,
His ticking my ominous herald
(Click-tick click-click tick-click, faster and faster and louder it rings in my ears.)

Watching the clock, waiting for Death to claim me,
I have forgotten to live.