when death's door came knocking

When death's door come knocking
By james a. galgano

Soon vomiting blood will be the only cure one is availed.
For a life well or poorly lived by through whose lens you peer
Images seeming close yet distant from dreams sought true.
Decline daily with age upon whose eye's cataracts disguise.
What was once so clearly seen now is lost in the shallows.
Of ill intent of sins never committed but one now repents
When looks backwards from where we now find ourselves to be?
There seems a purpose to this tomfoolery lost in memory without rhyme.
Age has become an unwelcome friend whose number counts back aligned.
With every action a consequence unforeseen until chickens found their roost
Upon your once range free terrain of youth which now only looks back in anger
But there is no use to this foolish rage choices were made no matter how un-thought.
At the time they seemed the path to take into tomorrow never knowing it might lead
Flashbacks from present day surely now seems a blur images larger than they seem.
Often now reminding you with the incurable disease so rewarded for such malaise.
There is no point but to enjoy the rocky ride down rollercoaster from broken dream.
To where the decline will soon come to rest with dying breath one will soon take
Now not for granted that is what our life was all about before we ever knew.
That all roads may not lead to Rome but soon they may also take us to Gethsemane
There our time upon the cross will find us soon looking backward without rhyme.
Languishing alongside so many like us thus we must be in good company resigned.
Wondering was it all worth the choices made or un-chosen bringing us into view.
Of life well lived so consigned to what we hoped for but never pursued
Until our dying breath we will never waver though might wish had once upon a time