Game of death

The Game of Death

The game of life is won at birth,
a random chance to live on earth.
How many heartbeats, who's to say,
its the game of death were to play.

Death starts creeping the day of birth,
it moves slowly, patient at first.
Easy, gently, we feel nothing,
look to see what each day will bring.

The pendulum swings out, then back,
faster it seems, still keeping track.
Not thinking of chances we take,
laughing at death, with jokes we make.

The sands of time increase our load,
we start looking for softer roads.
Hearts start working for every beat,
not ready, to admit defeat.

Now we're starting to count the cost,
try to make up, for time thats lost.
We still have much we wish to do,
smell the roses, look at them too.

The years have come, the years have gone,
some lives cut short, some lives lived long.
Our end we find is still the same,
the point is how we played the game.

rhyme aa bb
meter 8888