Much like the moon to the earth.

Gravity to an object… it is time

We share from deaths end, from birth,

From incubation, to seed and vessel… time.

Time etched in skin as scars, lines, cratered

As visible memories, and I the beholder

My line, my path, my life a little less catered

Of beauty… yes, yes I’m older

Time from my view is yours only slower

I’m you, years later perhaps decades.

Wisdom burdened, you see it on my shoulder

As I shrink, brittle to the touch, vision fades

Senile, memory gone, less to worry about

Less to be sorry about… and ultimately

I leave peacefully… choose your route

Well… aging, death, the afterlife is inevitable