Death strikes twice, the first, when coursing lifeblood stops
Upon the second, the spoken name of thine be lost,
And time between should not be briefed,
But scalpel blade and nimble hands within, abridge,
Of all potential generations be stole, a thiefed,
No more a babe be at my tender breast,
Boneless mouth be torn away, a burned bridge
Alas! The conduit be severed full,
The songbirds sing upon in their nest
Above their chicks, but never I, for I am null
The blessed Lord up above, import remembrance
‘Though time ‘twixt the events become short
       So be me, as long as mouths doth speak
       Death creeps aforth, upon, and scared, retreats.

I love the sound of clouds rolling in the morning
The sight of the grey of a coming storm
Clashing with the dark of a whithering night

And I could feel the rain coming

A feefall of raindrops
Washing away any haunts left by night
Thr chorus of an autumn's monsoon
Clashing with the whispers of the wind

Slowly will it pass
Slowly will the sun take its place

looking in the mirror
not recognizing the reflection
when this face got so old
I have no recollection

creases around the eyes
skin looking like leather
time taking it's toll
worn out by the weather

body breaking down
getting difficult to stand
arthritis is a problem
especially in my hand

hair growing in my ears
and growing out my nose
growing places it shouldn't be
even on my toes

sight a little blurry
getting difficult to see
getting up every hour
just to go ***

even though this body
will break down and age
the fire for you inside me
will continue to rage