Dodged By Death...

It is unlikely to be slow,
Whenever it does come;
It will, we do well know,
But, not where exactly from.

Clutching a to-do list,
We very eagerly scamper,
Ignoring the lurid tryst,
Which we cannot tamper.

Vulnerable on all sides,
When alone, or in a pack,
We live life in strides,
One put forth, one back.

We are all on death row,
Only there isn't a queue;
We all see a light glow,
Omen to some, cue to a few.