I glanced into the mirror
and it replied with a solitary word:
'Old.'


The thin silver hair, the wrinkled eyes,
the cast-iron frown. All quietly snickered:
'Old.'


A voice within me softly answered.


'Old indeed I am. But not dead.
Not quite. Not yet. Not ever.'

David Kowalczyk

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thorns-of-time-thus-spoke-the-immortal-soul/