Growing Old Poem by Daya Nandan

Nature truly is cruel towards the old,
For weakening their bodies, mind and soul,
Those who learned from experience to become wise,
Slowly degenerating to a point where someone dies,

Oh mother nature why must you be so cold,
Gradually weakening the the minds of old,
I cannot believe i learned so much only to face,
The shades of death that my body will embrace,

Climbing up the mountain of life only to finally fall,
Down to the end of existence, when i will lose it all,
Tragic yet true is mother nature's circle of life,
Where one is born to live until stabbed by death's knife,

The curse of death is inevitable, an event that is certain,
To every man's staged-life, a slow falling curtain,
The thought of death is scary, it brings out great fear,
One cannot be truly certain when their end will be near,

I don't think i will ever be ready to face death,
Not now not even when my body gives off its last breath,
But alas every man must succumb to their mortality,
The tragic process of aging that steals our vitality.