Hello! Rowan here with my second post, another poem! This one is much darker, looking into how some people focus so much on how long they have left in life, so that instead of living what they have left, and making the most of it, they spend their time mourning their eventual end, so much so that when the time comes, and they cannot see the light of day any more, they have nothing with them. They have not made their mark in the world, as they have spent all their time thinking about death, so much so that they are at such a loss as what to do afterwards. Now that the penultimate of their life has passed, they have no meaning, and are, inevitably, stuck in the dark.

Note: This doesn't have to do with death - it could be other things, like a loved one's death, or retirement, or a large project

Enjoy!

RD