Death On The Door

The room reeks of medicine, Crumpled, dirty, dark, unclean A burden is lying on the bed Once youthful and now almost dead! The ritual of attending on him Is an aberration of life's rhythm Except letting the time go by Waiting for the man to die! His relations he so cared for Now find him the one to abhor His time is out, why he still goes on? Wonders the people he thought his own! Still alive he's sinking in bed Just an alien as good as dead They're counting time, the ones his own When death is on door, everyone is alone!