Dealing with death. So much heartache he has caused. He's is never invited, but he comes bearing an unwanted gift of ‘the swipe of his scythe’. Although he is economically important, he still sprinkles grief into the hearts of lovers. He is an incorruptible ‘fiend’ who does not believe in erroneous judgements. Witnesses testify to his impartiality. Although it’s hard to conceive ‘why he does what he does’, the fact remains; his actions are effortless, some gruesome and macabre, some peaceful and tacit. He does not care what you think of him because you do not know him. His journeys are enigmatic. He could gather souls from the ‘lake of humanity’ with a bucket and dump on hot sand or take them by as small as a drop from a needlepoint. He is in awkward accord with ‘the irreversible time.’ You’ve struck a deal with him and slept in his bed, so his contract expires with you. No loops, no voids. He gives no duration. You shook hands with him from the moment of your conception, albeit with absolute obliviousness. He is a shark needy of a drop of misery in an ocean of euphoria to complete his purpose in a world of torment. Infant cries beseeches him a moment longer but only he gives the time frame and it is his only biggest and closely guarded secret.