What musings about mortality
escaped my literary head
I had mostly caught

I needed still a closing thread
A potentially famous final thought
Then suddenly came Death

I infer, I told the scythe keeper
it's me, and I may not decline —

But can I then take five, lord Reaper?
I've almost finished a fitting rhyme
Just a moment for digging deeper
I'm struggling with this final line

This may not be mitigated
he gravely replied, and I've
to warn thou art obliterated
Tis the lapse of thy life

Yet, five minutes for a final line
I consider we'll survive