They say all around us exists Life,

But at the same time,

So Death lies.

The very hosts of Life can take your own,

And it’s likely one will.

Death is the cutlery in your kitchen,

And the cleaning products in its closet.

Death is the outlet behind the coffee table,

Waiting for your accidental spill.

It is the cigarettes in your jacket,

The vehicle in your garage,

The vehicles outside.

It may be the air we breathe,

It may be the water we drink.

Death may be me,

Death may be you.

You can pave your path

To avoid the hosts of Death,

But you are bound to miss one,

And meet the inevitable dead end.

~Inspired by Emily Dickinson’s “Because I would not stop for Death…” Unfortunately, Ms. Dickinson, Death will stop anywhere, anytime.