Death

Abstract noun, death.

From the day you were born

You run from the inevitable

Call of nature

Unknowing that it is hopeless.

For each day is not defined as a day older

But rather a day closer

To the moment that the endless cold

Grips your body, and soul.

 

Each day as you grow closer

To your end, you dodge and evade

The intentional accidents in life

That attempt to steal the Reaper’s job and take you before

You are actually meant to leave

This world of industrial evil

And drift to a world of imagination

Where no man has ever ventured into and returned then after.

 

Years of slow motion moments

And days of eternity

Still leave you young

And distant from the finish line

Of life, as you continue

Running down random paths

And hidden shortcuts to avoid and escape

From the darkness of death

Never seeing that ahead of each turn and twist

Is still the same end, that you were promised.

 

Then, when millenniums have inched passed

And you feel as old as the ground you walk

You finally give up.

You stride up to the dark depth before you

With your head held high

And pass through to another world

Of unimaginable ends

With weak legs, a heavy heart

And a smile on your aged face.

Author's Note

This is a very dark piece that holds true for every man and woman, do you agree?

Reviews

[~angelalala~]

i love this poem, it is darkly beautiful. from the moment we are born, we are dying. nobody gets out alive, as the old sayings go. we do go through life, for the most part, dodging the bullet so to speak, but sooner or later, whether young or old, whether ready or not, it catches up with us. very deep & thought-provoking work.