Unwillingly

What conversations we sometimes have

When preparing to sleep the blessed sleep!

Her friend's sister talked of nearing death 

"There he's at the door waiting to enter"

Sometimes she grabbed mother's hand

Fearful of the coming darkness and asking

That she go with her wherever she went

She was in such pain that they prayed for

Her to be freed from the clutches of life

After having prayed for her to be spared

Death is the light at the end of the tunnel

The brooding silence of the cloudy sky

Of the street when all the din dies down

Of the house she left behind unwillingly.