Everywhere I Turn

Death is everywhere I turn, under every rock and berm
AN all consuming fire
Greedily devouring the strongest of strong
Nothing left of this weary imperfect vessel
And lo, all is but ashes
To be swept away by a thieving wind
Like chaff on the threshing floor
Life is naught but a curse
Better to die young suffer less
Than regret the day of birth
My soul summoned hence
But not even death can cause such a restless soul
To be still and rest
Tis doomed to ne'er find peace
Wandering to and fro
For there was never was a place I was ever made to feel at home