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