Things are coming to an end
leaving me breathless, and gasping for air
I try to hold on, and not lose what I have gained
but my mind and soul tell me I need to move on, and my body tells me no.
I work it to the bone and to the road of no returning
but I know this
things are coming to an end
I know in my gut and my senses tell me everyday
the end is getting near
I can hear it breathing on my neck and whispering in my ear
And it says: 'keep your peace and know no pain for here I am, I am the end to all who are old and aging. I can smell it in the air'
Death came to take my soul. He seemed nice enough so I took his hand
THE END
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem