Life's Last Endeavor

Scrapes, scratches 

Wounds, bruises,
Clamps, Crutches,
Pricking Pangs
Punctured Cramps
Laying low
The Bronzite Man,
Mowing Down,
His Life's Hour-Glass.

Churning and Chopping,
Drop by Drop
His Blood ,
Membranes
Neurons,
Vessels and 
Clots.

Knocking down,
His waggish Ken.
Cloth less stands,
Now his entrails.
The Bones the flesh
Are territory less.
His Sun Tumbling
and Struggling,
To fight
Purple, Blue ,black
and their Kins.

But today
There are no earls
There rules no king
Death has its Dynasty
it will smite
It will strike
To keep Him Slow
Numb
Frozen
Tranquil and
lowly-browed

Ventilators,
Oxygen Masks,
Drips, Injectibles,
Sedative Pills,
To fill and lift,
Paucity of Pink.
The Electric Shocks
Clip-clopping
Kicking Up
The old man's heels

The Dying Man
Pushed, Pulled ,Jerked 
The blue lips,
And
Bee-infected-wounds.
He died not in Silence
But in noisy Struggle
As Life's Last Farewell
Asks for Absolute Endeavor