The Collector of Souls

by Stephen Watson

With no time to say goodbye
It strikes us without warning;
In the evening twilight
Or on a brisk spring morning.

It can take us while we're sleeping
Or on a sun blessed summer's day.
As we're busy working,
And while we're hard at play.

It is waiting in the background;
'Tis a cause of great despair.
Unseen, it lingers all around us,
And often seems unfair.

It severs us from loved ones
In the blinking of its eye.
With one snip its scythe denies us,
The remainder of our lives.

06-Mar-2013

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