Slimy Death

A Guest Post by Farida Rizwan

Who in this mortal world can be so clever?

As to escape death and live forever.

Whoever at a time had a chance of life’s greeting,

Sure with death will have an appointed meeting.

 Nothing can escape death, be it however strong. 

Everything has an end, though some may live very long. 

The sun, moon, stars and all the milky way, 

Will have to face death, on a certain day

 Merciless death! Who all have turned into corpse? 

Once livid things, how sad they now sleep like tops. 

A painter who could depict his mind on canvas, 

A man with a voice that could sway the mass.

 A killer who for money had taken many lives, 

And the one who must have widowed his many wives, 

A being with a heart of gold or the one with temper wild, 

A mother who was yet to feed her newborn child.

 A soldier fighting out bravely in midst of a battle, 

An innocent child was enjoying his rattle, 

The one who had no fun but lived in strife, 

Along with the one who cared a lot for unfaithful life.

 The person worth a lot for his knowledge was great 

Death never cares when it is out of straight 

It shows no discrimination to any living man 

For each it has fixed a certain life span

 Carelessly it plucks from kids their mothers 

Death is a must for even those who spent their lives for others 

The wailing mother can earn no pity from death 

Nor a thousand tears can earn a single breath 

Death does not stand admiring a soldier brave 

It just goes about on its job of filling the grave 

Death is not bought or sold at any store 

It may just strike from blue or from earth’s core

 It may strike one who has trodden enough on the earth 

Or one who is just enjoying his birth 

The poor cannot sell it, the rich cannot buy it 

The weak cannot hide from it, the strong cannot tie it

 The shadow of death lurks here, there and everywhere 

It can be found hiding just about anywhere 

When it holds life with its steely grip 

Life has no chance, but to start its final trip

 When will come the dark angel, my hand to hold? 

Just the thought makes my blood run cold 

To strike the paper with pen as my hand bends 

Death must be leading how many towards their ends?????

BY: Farida Rizwan

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About The Author: 

Farida Rizwan is an inimitable and an inspiring blogger from Chaptersfrommylife.blogspot.com. She believes that every piece of her life has been like a chapter that has always left her with an inevitable lesson. A striking yet touching chapter of her life surrounds around her strength to survive stage 3 Cancer. Farida believes that the disease left an indelible mark on her personality besides providing her the power to reinvent her life in many ways. Farida today yearns to be a self-actualized individual. She believes that sometimes god chooses the direction for us and we just need to believe in his chosen route for us.