Death

Like every other evening
After the sun will be vanished
The birds returned, dusk fallen
And the moon steadily grown
In clear, cloudless sky
The lady so old
Will fall by the verandah
Staring in the distance
With her shimmery, weak eyes
Trying to lift her wrinkled hand
Waiting for death to come
Come, come and swallow her
Whole and quick in its
Tremendous mouth

Tired from life, sick of living
Now she wants to escape
Leaving her body to rot
Back in the verandah, unburied
Yet her soul, she believes
Will be promised
A peaceful, prominent life
In heaven or hell, but away
From the creepy world