Sonnet for a Place to Die

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We toil in proverbs not to fear the grave.
We must with boldness to the earth descend.
When soon the world takes back the life it gave,
accept your gruesome, far-too-early end.
With lasting lifetimes we are rarely blessed,
our charges living decades in the sun
while we condemn ourselves to never rest,
consumed in our adventure never done.
But they above will suffer much the same;
unhappy ends to unfulfilling time.
In hospitals, in sleep, in cars, in pain;
no enterprise with which they can resign.
When death may come I much prefer the thought
to blaze in darkness than in light to rot.

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