Death comes for us all—I hear it whisper, low,
It whispered before, it whispers again.
The cards fall, spilling, spilt again,
Each one a life, a love, a thread she knew, a thread i will know;
A path I’ve led, or, will lead, have been-

I’m falling, I will fall; a tower, the tower—
Caught in loops, slips through time’s tight noose.
Faces blur—were they lovers, or ghosts?
They fade, I fade, and she's left—
A wandering host, or maybe, is it I?

In...