The Face Of Death Poem by Lone Dog

He lies there unresponsive,
Unrecognizable, dead;
A skeleton of his former self;
Yellowed, sunken cheeks;
Flesh hanging on bone;
Mouth wide open and twisted to one side;
Aghast expression revealing
A confrontation with Death,
Not as a friend, but as some great evil -
An evil so horrifying that it transformed
The gentle, smiling face that I once knew
Into the disturbing, grotesque visage
Of the Grim Reaper himself.

My dear uncle -
A vacant, soulless, repulsive corpse now;
A lifeless shell
That once housed an industrious
And exceedingly charitable human being;
A lifeless shell
That is a stark reminder
Of what awaits us all.