Natural Death: Regard, As at Hand

“Man, who is born of woman, is short of days and full of trouble.

Like a flower, he comes forth, then withers away; like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure.

“Show me, O LORD, my end and the measure of my days. Let me know how fleeting my life is.

You, indeed, have made my days as handbreadths, and my lifetime as nothing before You. Truly each man at his best exists as but a breath. Selah

For all our days decline in Your fury; we finish our years with a sigh.

For, “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall,