Death is a thing we all know and may fear, We stand our ground while some of us run with tears, The thought of death and the ones before, Give us less of something to hope for.
The way we are and the way death is portrayed, It would not be considered a forte, When death comes and goes, We must use our senses and toes.
We use what we have, As much as we can, When the life of us is like a van, Full yet snug, Comfortable yet plain, The word of us is not always driven by pain.
As death is quick and fast, Sometimes it will last, Longer than one hour to past, We raise our sails, With many uphaul.
We ready against what we know is sad and true, We always look and sometimes miss what we're going through, We cover a lid on all we know, Without hope, There's nowhere we can go.
But maybe it is, with sad dismay, Showing us the withered way, We know it is inevitable, And yet, we stay, with untouched dismay and truth, About what will come with untold decay.
We live as long as we can go, But maybe this is why it's hard for us to let go, Because of our attachments and memories made true, Death will always loom above you.
With our fear that death will one day come, All we can do is pray, Or let it rain down some, Our thoughts and hopes left to rot, Under the paveway of lost and hopeless thoughts.
We all may fear those death filled thoughts, And yet we still welcome them into our embrace, To hold them with an undying lace,
We all may fear those death filled thoughts, And yet we still welcome them into our embrace, To hold them with an undying lace, We open our hearts, with no machetes or mace, to fight back, or wonder what we will be like when left with no more okays.
Thank you so much for the prompt, @vanitysmurf!