The corridor you walk along
Is like a one-way track,
And, though your will to live is strong,
You know there’s no way back.
As such, it’s easy to ignore
The sounds of goings-on
That come from almost every door;
Your interest in them’s gone.
Instead, you focus on the day
You draw your final breath
And tell yourself that, in that way,
You’ll be prepared for death.
But no one knows how that shall be
Or if it lasts eternally.
Photo by mtsjrdl on Unsplash
Dying (2)
