The fuse of time comes to its limit
as like in a sandglass the last grains drop
almost one by tiny one until they are all gone
and life leaves the body, following the demands
laid down by destiny and the force
that drives the body stops to exist,
to exist in it.
The force that drives the blood
through veins and arteries
gives its last beat, contracts
and then stops beating
and the last breath is taken
with the lungs contracting
and taking in air and death is here
but that human being do not realise it.
but I do not realise it.
© Gert Strydom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem