Can you write a short poem about death?

A few have met but no-one knows

Where the dark-shrouded pilgrim is:

Over the river styx he rows,

And waits for long, but when he comes-

He comes too swift, but comes for peace.

While I won't follow your directions, expressing my free will, and an unstructured sense of death, I agree with one who stated lack of experience, but in any case I did come in so will answer, wondering if you've made any effort at all?

Death of the physical self, left alone develops a smell

lingering in the memory, much like a frontal lobotomy

though that assumes thoughts have been stolen.

no matter ones dictated time, there are always questions,

Death is the final answer to the why of life.

His eyes were the look of discriminating demeanor,

His face, elongated, were supplied with a wicked smile.

If his putrid appendage, his pocket were to enter,

You can be certain that a firearm from it will be emerge;

Despite his twiglike frame he can send you to an unknown isle.

I hope you like it :).

Looking up I see the sky erase me

I've drifted into my eternal fate

Life is tragic but never once phased me

Suffering has been my truest gift

For now I know the freedom of escape

In the face of the unfathomable,

God's hand rose from the love in the dark.

Lost in the bewildered undesirable,

Darkness envelopes the grace of his deeds,

As the last petal of the bloody rose made its mark.

..."Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard to fetch her poor Rover a "bone"...but when "she" bent over, Rover drove-her ! and gave her a "bone" of his own !