Knock Knock

Oftentimes, And it happens so often lately, I catch myself staring at the walls and the ceiling lost somewhere in reverie, furtively sneaking a peek at the door. Death– Where does it come from? Does it need a door to come through? Does it knock? Or, it just appears from nowhere like an apparition, Does the sight of death takes one’s breath away? Or death comes when you’re no longer able to breathe? How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door? Has death ever tried and failed to find the door? O Lord, don’t let death turn away It might only create sorrow, It will be alright if I don’t see tomorrow. Whenever this mortal journey ends and death comes smiling to the fatal door, Let my soul contain fortitude enough that it can so endure. ~Contest: Doors ~Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco