This thing called Death

deathNo one alive is immortal,

The ticking clock never stops,

Though at times we do forget,

Tick-tock is always loyal.

 

Big or small we are all level,

When the chiming comes along,

You and me once hardly equal,

In death we are all gone.

 

Unity gathers strength,

Yet not enough to trample death,

Solitude fosters reason,

But death will hardly listen.

 

When your time is up,

Death is punctual,

No second chances,

Death is no judge.

 

Death is the hangman,

The job must be done,

And once you are gone,

It’s on to the next count.

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