deaths closing grip

death

his looming glare over me

his hand resting on my shoulder

his shadow covering mine

always around every turn he waits
i cant escape his reach

his gaze is upon me 

i fear the reaper is upon me

his scythe swinging

as i sit here alone 

the darkness consuming everything

the grip on my shoulder gets tighter 

im ripped out of this world

never to see the light of day 

nor the warmth of the sun

my body will grow cold

life is dead like me