Man’s Death

Death's shadow looms, a haunting presence near,

A villanelle of sorrow and of fear.

Its mystery profound, its call austere.

We face its grip with trembling hearts sincere,

As loved ones pass beyond the mortal sphere.

Death's shadow looms, a haunting presence near.

Through tears and grief, we cling to memories dear,

And find in them a balm to ease the sear.

Its mystery profound, its call austere.

Yet in the midst of loss, love's light appears,

A beacon shining bright, forever clear.

Death's shadow looms, a haunting presence near.

Though death may come, its grip we need not fear,

For love endures beyond life's fleeting year.

Its mystery profound, its call austere.

So let us honor those we hold most dear,

And cherish every moment while we're here.

Death's shadow looms, a haunting presence near,

Its mystery profound, its call austere.