Death (Quatrains) Poem by Cynthia Buhain-baello

He comes with grim finality
With no qualms, takes the toll.
All prayers shelved desolately,
Cutting off life is his call.

He comes uninvited but on time
Never missed a job to do
Some may leave before their prime,
But he doesn't explain to me or you.

Even Age to him's no barrier
He comes as swiftly as the wind
His venue can be anywhere
Our finite contract to rescind.

Ways of termination vary
In sleep or in disastrous ways
In war or in a monstrous spree
He speaks finale to our days.