We are all passing by
Dancing through this life
Skipping through the Milky Way
And yet when everything seems to make sense
We lose sense of it all
We age, we grow, we wither
And beyond the silky skies
The mysteries of existence
We cannot look
We cannot see
We try to peer across the corner
We catch our breaths
But yet again death catches us
Empty handed
It visits us in our homes
With no invitation
It enters our families
Makes friends with our friends
Parades through our lives
Uninvited
Claims us all
Claims everything
This whole entirety is up for grabs
Continuously claimed
Destroyed
And then
There’s room for more creation
The newborn is as much a murderer as my sickness
The seed sown deeply into the ground
Drinks from the blood of its predecessor
It could have not existed
Without a death
In search of meaning we say
We’re all connected
We switch our thoughts
We say it had to die
For life to be brought forth
But no,
There is no meaning in life
We know that
And for all we know as well
There may be even more meaning in death
So we are wrong
It is the other way
Its life that kills not death
And so, only in death can we be set free
bohemiaspeaks 
Hello there! I enjoyed reading this poem and, as I always like to disclaim comments like this – you may want to stop reading here! However, if you are open to a bit of a total stranger’s interpretation of the immediacy of this piece, feel free to keep reading. When I hit this stanza, I felt like the rhythm really started to come together:
It enters our families/Makes friends with our friends/Parades through our lives/Uninvited
Part of what works so well in that stanza is the lack of “it” cluttering up the line. What if you continued in that same way in the next stanza?
Claims us all –
Claims everything
This whole entirety, up for grabs
Continuously claimed
Destroyed
And then
There’s room for more creation
At any rate, take it with a grain of salt.
Thanks for sharing!
criticism is always welcome. thank you Jessica for your insightful comment!
I have fascinations with death and despair but it’s not something morbid. Great write.
thank you :)