Whisper of Death

My life spirals ever downward... The grave taunts me with its laugh. Death's bony fingers are affixed my throat As the jester of my unmerited epitaph. My angst at my ever-flounder appears Well-earned and justly placed Where the rabid minions of an avenging God Will no doubt make bold of my disgrace. Have I lived too long a life so plain Where my soul was too confined And any realistic hope of eternal bliss Seems mere folly at this time? To live too long is an old Man's curse And bound to evoke some industry Where best intentions are set adrift... To partake sweet ecstasy. These stains that commemorate my Earthly Sins Are laid denuded for all to see. I drag them unceremoniously into an afterlife That may not wish to bolster me. But who among us hasn't stumbled With Death's foot ajar the door With temptations strewn like pearled oysters On life's repugnant shores? The righteous path is straight and narrow And a vehicle for all those bold and brave But only appeared crucial and strategic as I stand with one foot in the grave. How happier were those days gone by When I was young and free from vice. If I had only maintained such vernal guileless To insure a place in paradise. But I have come to this conclusion As Death's whisper slakes my soul with dread. Too much time has been my nemesis and any Last minute burbling is better left unsaid. So at this hour... this late late hour... I now confront an awful truth. I might have had a better chance at Heaven... Had I perished in my youth. The End Ever-flounder: A bad situation of one's own making. *I wrote this poem from the perspective of someone who fears their sins are too heavy for God to bear. *Follow my cartoon at Webtoon Bob's Your uncle.