This visitor is the topic of conversation in my life recently,
However it has been for centuries.
When he knocks on your door
You know its time to go
Even if things are left behind, there is no more time.
I see that many fear this visitor
Even praying that it wont come knocking on their door.
But I'm waiting...
I'm waiting.
It's not that I'm expecting this visitor any time soon
Nor do I wish to see him coming to my door step.
No it's more like
If he comes, I am ready.
If my time comes it comes.
So I sit here staring at my feet
While everyone frantically prays and denies his existence
I'm here contemplating what to eat next
While everyone is scared that they might be next.