Tuesday, December 23, 2008

A Regret At Death

He stands alone in time his health
has fallen to despair

His mind a swirl alone of fright
of death who wonders near.

His thoughts are turned to fonder days
with voices him around

But in this lonely state of now
the silence, it abounds.

He fears of death, its cold embrace
will make its fated rounds

Upon his weak and fragile form
with little warning sound.

He wishes he had sought a way
to seek to make amends

To those he hurt and pushed aside
when time, it had no end.

He feels the pain within his chest
but knowing death is near

He follows it o' saddened thoughts
of all the wasted years.

© Steve Sites


petra michelle; Whose role is it anyway? said...

Can feel death at his doorstep!
Very well expressed!

Stephen Sites said...

Thank you for the kind comment.

Kentucky Dreamer said...

I could feel this all the way to my bones ...

Stephen Sites said...

Thank you KyDreamer; I appreciate it.

Fabian G. Franklin said...

Chilling piece, the buzzards have came home to roost on our tombstones. Very gloomy and melancholy, put me in the mood for Poe...off to Poe I go and thanks.

Stephen Sites said...

Thanks for reading.

Granny Sue said...

Aye, the regrets at the end of life. How many people know how this man feels? Mood is great for this piece. I liked the surprise way the words are turned.