On your last breath you feel

His dark cloak fluttering with the wind.

A cold whisper with satire,

Grim Reaper says, "Finally we meet."

You take his hands, unsure,

Convinced there is no cure.

Your lifeless self sleeps alone,

Your soul drifting further above.

A somber cave on a shore,

His scythe unlatches a door.

As you near, your memories —

Are all captivated there.

Like a flash they move,

One brighter than the other.

No longer scattered around,

Like a whirlpool they surround.

First comes a distant memory,

From your very early days.

When you saw the mirror

First in your life as a toddler.

The shades shall change now

Turning more bright and vibrant,

Your friends beckoning you

Patting firmly on your back.

The shade's crimson now

Is it reflecting your temple?

When you saw at a distance

Your first love smiling back.

Then with a gust of wind,

Pages of your life turn.

Some beautiful, some grim,

Others evanescent — fading apart.

When it ends, you try to blame —

"Wasn't life too short?"

The Grim Reaper smiles, amazed to find,

"They always have the same question."