Death Comes To All
Death comes to us all
always waiting in the wings that fall.
In youth we contrive our dreams without thought
of death and the mystery of which it's frought.
Others died around me, family and friends
yet old age or illness required their amends.
In the midst of life, with strength and health
death has often fooled me by its stealth.
I was immortal with my youth back then
without fear or question of where or when
unwilling to face that thirsty unquenchable defeat
that devours life and all it takes as if a thief.
Now, as the years have increased my time
the melancholy music embraces all I find,
all life is beautiful and held jealously of realities we keep
and I am fearful to face that last and final eternal sleep.
A poem in Death theme for Broken Wings contest
In the midst of life
Form quatrain
5/17/18
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