Wed, 09/27/2017 - 20:00 -- Maisha

It's coming,
but no one can tell when.
It's on its way some time or day
and you'll figure it then.
It's right around the corner,
you can't see it with your eyes.
It might or may give you signs,
or catch you by surprise.
It's coming soon or later,
you'll never see it come.
And no one sees it, ever,
but it's met by everyone.
It'll be here any time, 
any day, or month, or year.
You may feel it on its way,
or you'll never know when it's near.
It might leave you red like roses,
or leave no sign at all.
It does not stop or slow down,
and has no time to stall.
It might leave you pale and frozen,
or leave no clue or sign.
The thought of it is scary,
it sends shivers up your spine.
It's coming when it wants to,
at any time or place.
There's no way to run away,
you'll never win the race.
You'll never see it coming,
there's just no way to tell.
There's no alarm or symbol,
no rings, or dings, or bells.
No matter who you are,
it'll catch and steal your breath.
No matter where you go,
you just can't escape Death.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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