Sonnet: In Senescence Poem by Dr John Celes

My earthly run has now become a walk;
My body frame is weary from its toil;
My voice is just a whisper when I talk;
The yield is lesser from the seed, top-soil.

My special senses have gone dull at last;
My conscience is blunt, under pressure;
I remember my hoary, scary past;
My health is failing - my only treasure.

When senescence takes over any man,
His plight is pathetic with growing years;
Avoid slide-down, no human being can;
How terrible the feeling when death nears!

Yet, aging fills the mind with wisdom much,
Until comes end by angel's final touch!