The Invincible Enticer Poem by Vidya Pandarinath

Death is the end of all pick -
Real, inevitable and abrupt;
Great fancy and undue rhetoric
Often glared with attributes inept
Call him a tyrant or killer
For the bold, just an apt thriller

Some, lured, go searching for him
While others are being sought
By  the  crafty, delusive  gamestar  grim,
Closely  following and unawares  caught;
He needs no reason nor act smart  -
An ultimate pull, finished with a dart 

Agony, whine or gloomy groan of pain,
Cuts, pierces and blood or the rope;
Ailments, disorders  and  disasters   remain
Listed ever in the grey book, sans hope;
The bio-span begins with a puzzle - cry
And ends with delusive indexes on faces wry

Awaking and sudorific dreams of death;
Obsession, fear, losing possession of the dear,
Wreck the sapless soul and stifle the breath;
Percepts mere, and deduced thoughts not clear,
Render existence into an innate, natural course,
Accepted as cosmic and free from remorse.