The clock ticks ceaselessly, time's relentless flow,
Death sits as a specter, immersed in its glow.
Reflecting on mortality, the brevity of breath,
Whispers of existence, the dance with one's death.
Amidst the abyss, Death seeks to comprehend,
The purpose of being, the means to transcend.
Musing on the fragility of human desire,
How passions ignite, then flicker, expire.
The specter contemplates the realms unknown,
What lies beyond, when life's journey is done.
Is it oblivion's embrace or eternal reprieve,
A void of darkness or a light to believe?
With each passing soul, Death witnesses the pain,
The struggles and sorrows, life's tumultuous terrain.
Yet, in final moments, glimpses of serenity arise,
Acceptance of fate, as the spirit slowly dies.
Echoes of past poets, their verses ring true,
Baudelaire's lamentations, the anguish we knew.
In Death's contemplation, a portrait unveiled,
Existence's enigma, a mystery veiled.
Oh Death, in your pondering, do you find solace?
As you witness life's trials, the human malaise.
Your silence whispers truths, profound and stark,
Embracing mortality, leaving an indelible mark.
YOU ARE READING
Collection of Random Writing
DiversosA collection of things I've written for fun over the years. Started as a CAS project, but now it's become a hobby.
