I am hasty to walk the path of death, just as darkness is to descend on the land to consume enlightened souls
I am a beacon to the world that all is not light and that things decay and collapse
A reminder of your mortality and what you will lose without me
A threat of grief as my words lick your throats with a bladed tongue and make you yearn to stop me
Stop these words of macabre morose you beg me, for I break your hearts in the want of me
I have but one destiny of which I cannot disobey
That is to die
It is the destiny of us all
What does it matter when we fall? What does it matter how?
In fifty years’ time or now?
tardycreative.com 