He stood silent
With an empty face,
Clad in invisibility
And leaned on a monstrous sickle
Right there at the entrance
Pitilessly watching
-our beloved
On that grim bed
As he laboured
For a piece of breath

A sad sight
And we who claim
Ourselves masters of herbs
Could do nothing
Not even see,
Plead or fight
Him that stood
At the entrance
Neither reaping
Nor helping
Or away leaping
To a different field

But stood there
Watching
Timelessly bound
Until our beloved whispered:
“Water…!!!”
A last taste of life
That was all he wanted
Nothing else matter
By the time we returned
The Stranger reaped his part
And left us the chaff