Edgar

When death follows
                  haunts
                  chases after you,
     leaving no escape,
          how can you not be tortured
                by the doom of fate?

How could you just brush it off
                           discount it
                           outrun it,
                           have it be enough?
        Could you –
             even if you wanted to?

How could you not
     see it in every periphery
     hear it in each reverie
     smell it sneaking up behind you
     taste it in your sustenance
     feel its darkness
               always in your presence?

With fear and resolve,
     you refrain from reaching out
          to the shadows that surround,
               where you know
                         it waits for you
                              in every thought
                              in every doubt.

Yet what else can you do
     but seek to follow
               where it goes
     try to stay one step ahead
               hoping to understand
                       and know?

If not that,
     you must let go,
          allow yourself
                    to be nevermore,
                              succumb
                    to its impending clutches,
                         leaving fate to decide
                              the eternal score.