The Age of Death

the age of death arrived, so stealthy
and suddenly I'm losing friends
some were just getting by, some wealthy
their means don't justify their ends
some go away unseen, discreetly
I find them written up, so sweetly
on social media, with love
some struck by lightning from above
I fear it, though the fear's receding
and resignation's setting in
obsessing about "might have been"
debating with myself, succeeding
deciding that I matter still
and so go on, by force of will