My skin wrinkles
My ears decrease in strengh sound becomes noise to my ears
My ear lobes decende
Grey my hair grows

Eye sight fails glasses I wear were are they opps on the top of my head
Wrinkle prune skin
Firmness now ebes away dangling flappy bits hanging to my body where
Musle was within

My strengh deteriates weakness and aging creeps opoun my torso
Aches and pains consume my once fit ripped torso
Dependant on my walking stick
I visit the quack most ofen

Or
they to me
My bed my existitence alone I am now
Waiting for my last visitor
Death he shall be know
In the darkness he comes

To aher the wanted souls of the lost to heaven some shall go others to there doom
Souls lost in fire they are consumed