It’s coming, the haunting hunter,
It doesn’t wear a cloak or carry a weapon,
But it’s coming – it takes the speech first.
Leave no words, keep the mystery alive.
Closer now breathing in the room
Eye sight fades to it.
But the mind has left its comforts
Dreams to hide the approach to soothe
It’s touching now. Sapping away all sense of feeling – kissing the last breath away.
Death was here.
