Vivamus, Moriendum Est Poem by Amelie Ison

Wow, death really is so final.
To think, that in death, you'd close your eyes
To never open them again. How
Can anyone sleep knowing it might be their last?
How can I sleep? I sleep peacefully,
But death is so ending—and, in sleep, aren't you already
Halfway to death? —that I don't know how I manage to.
To think that everyday you dodge death
When you walk down the stairs and don't trip—
Which could ultimately lead to you breaking your neck—
And if you were home alone, how could you know
You'd survive? Eating food:
Is that not risky enough? Choking is a hazard,
Yet no one fears stuffing their gob—least of all me.
Really, one day, you could just drop
And never get back up again. Death is random;
Death is ultimate; and (unfortunately)
Death is inevitable.