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
http://stephensites.wordpress.com/
7 comments:
Can feel death at his doorstep!
Very well expressed!
Thank you for the kind comment.
Steve
I could feel this all the way to my bones ...
Thank you KyDreamer; I appreciate it.
Steve
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.
Thanks for reading.
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.
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