Death's Chilling Boney Hand Grabs At Me All The Time. by Michael Gale

Death's Chilling Boney Hand Grabs At Me All The Time.

Death's chilling boney hand reaches for customers uncooperated...
For without prior knowledge to one's own futured plight.

To Death's gleeful delight...
He'll have his victim Any day or even this frightful chilly darkened night.

No hope of flight...
No chance for an equality type fight.

No one may stay Death's clammy coldest hand...
No shield or bomb may be launched Death's way to bestill his ever reaching grasping hand.

No name of brand or even newer model introduced...
Can give forth a pausemental period or even be induced.

Death is on the way to deliver that black or grey Hearse...
To your door before you may need to practice a will or testament
or even a beter idea would be to just reherse your legally written
last willed verse.

Will Death bring His sadness real terse? ...
We cannot change our movemental gears into a fast forward or even a most wanted time era's into reverse.

Death in life has no time table to abide by of human subjects...
For Death is on it's own prescheduled agenda.

No innocent suspects-Only time is again'st ya....
We cannot have life without death.

That is the only law of nature....
That is for all mere mortal man's own lifely stature.

That long dark tunnel which may lead to lights of Heaven's door...
May not to man be barred of a rich man or even the poor.

Death is as never ending as the most final of wordly and worldly
books of life...
Death may be a most peaceful reprieve from a life filled completely full of over loaded strife.

Death's kiss was tossed my way....
I am out of time and have no more hours-Not even an extra night or day.

I have not done anything my way...
I have no mere mortal stay this day.

I am at last gone...
No more daybreak or no more morning's dawn

-Michael Gale -

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Death's Chilling Boney Hand Grabs At Me All The Time.

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