I’m not afraid of death, you know-
I count him as a friend.
I know he’s waiting up ahead-
I’m not sure where, or when.
He’s taken my acquaintances-
And all my family, too-
Death is an appointment-
For me, and likewise, you.
Fear of the unknown, I guess-
Is what most people dread…
I’m not sure that it matters,
After one is dead.
But whether waits oblivion-
Or some Almighty wrath-
Death is still the porter,
At the end of every path.
So, come, old friend, I’m ready-
Swing wide the waiting gate.
For life has used me badly…
I’m prepared to meet my fate.
Poetry
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Well said , a truth time tested,
“But whether waits oblivion-
Or some Almighty wrath-
Death is still the porter,
At the end of every path.”
Lines “So, come, old friend, I’m ready-
Swing wide the waiting gate.”
are quite appealing !
Looks the poem jets out from the frustration life has meted out as testified by lines “For life has used me badly…
I’m prepared to meet my fate.”
A good reflection of the state of mind that goads one to this conclusion on life. Any way its well written and deserves appreciation……. kranand
Very good comment, obviously you were able to read not only what was in the lines, but what lay between them.