Stranger At The Door Poem by Herman Sequira

The old man now nigh eighty years
Reflects upon his past,
His wrinkled eyes reflect his fears
He has not long to last.

When on his door a knock he hears
And opens it a-trembling,
He sees a stranger standing there
With face of death resembling.

With shaking voice and quaking heart
The old man begs reprieve.
'Too late, too late, we must depart
I've more to do this eve.'

Again he pleads, tho' all in vain
'This life I must correct.
Too many lives, I've caused much pain,
I cannot go just yet.'

The stranger smiles, and at his whim
The old man's breath is gone.
Another soul belongs to him,
Grim Reaper's job is done.

What will you do when your time's come
And Death knocks on your door?
Within your heart will there be fear,
Or peace forever more?