Death Beckons

Death beckons.
Everywhere I go,
death beckons.
A faint whisper only,
but slowly growing more persistent.
It's present all the time now,
present where it never existed before.
It's there when I wake,
and it's there at dusk.
It's always around,
ever so gently beginning to tug at my soul,
reminding me that the journey
is scheduled to continue.
Death beckons.
Everywhere I go death beckons,
and although intrigued
I am somewhat uneasy.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem