The inevitable fate of a dying man, watching his time ebb by.
Leaves nothing to look forward to, as his world goes to demise.
Why is it so, that life is so cruel, to force him to observe.
The end of all that's dear to him while he can still discern.
So in the end, the only thing, that's likely to survive.
Is the progeny that he creates, himself he leaves behind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.