The Daily Sentence

Crawling the grey scale, eyes weak, full of weariness, tired; the long lonely, of time and the river, afraid of numerous diseases, plethora of cancers; a stroke to watch from inside, the world quietly, the human heart, failing, falling quiet; death takes its time, the tools of God, one thing appointed unto man, back to the ground, fly away, until then, dragging the days, dig a nice cool shaded grave, crawl the grey scale, leave something behind.