Death At A Worms Pace Poem by Dallis Gibson

Death at a Worms Pace
Always there forever creeping like the worm along the road.
You wonder when will he ever reach his hole but he always does.
He creeps along slowly until you touch him then he hurries.
That’s the way it always is when your end is near either slow or fast.
So hopefully you’re near your hole for he is here.
Wait! Don’t stop to look behind your for his hand is near.
Keep going for your time is near but have no fear he got you.
So now you have no fear but the darkness that plagues us all.