But not quite yet

As I closer come to death

I consider my last breath,

All the ones who gone before

Beckon me towards the door.

Are constantly about my head

Reminding me that they are dead.

Weekly I review their names

In the pages of the Times.

All the people good and great

Who I wished to emulate,

All are gone are passed away

To no longer bright the day.

I with them will join them soon,

Enter in a darkened room

Or perhaps a bright light I shall see,

Welcoming eternity.

What will happen no one knows,

Iron is shaped by hammer blows,

Beaten battered blacksmith forged,

Something different re-emerged.

Heart will stop its beating here,

Brain will disengage the fear,

Eternal soul will onward fly,

To some palace in the sky.

Or perhaps more likely on that day,

 I will simply slip away

And few will know and less will care

That I have passed my time down here.

No fine obituary in the Times for me,

Anonymous passing I shall be,

Somewhat annoyed I was not exempt,

From this damned inconvenient detriment.

Surprised that it should come to this,

A sad farewell and clammy kiss,

For nothing ventured nothing gained,

A quiet life I entertained.

With nothing striking nothing brave,

He drowned at sea without a wave,

And now he's gone and been replaced

By thousands more who've been displaced,

By war or want or flood or famine,

To struggle on and on and on - I imagine.