Looking Forward to the Past

Death lies not in the culmination. It exists in
The approaching absence and the reminiscence.
A looming presence that lives 
When you're born; lives on once you shut your eyes to eternal sleep. 

They say, death can be Beautiful.
But do you Ever look forward to it,
As you reach higher up the ladder of corporeal success,
As you lean further towards that walking stick for a reprieve?

Is is for the end we all prepare?
(Why) Do we look for a gain even in our moment of death?
So much for that moment which in itself
Is transient and eternal at the same time.

Is it strange we sit back in eager anticipation of
Things uncertain always, in oblivion to the one fact of our lives? 
Is death a cruel thing [in itself]?
What makes someone embrace it, then? 
For all we know, we experience a death before we enter this realm, this world. 
Maybe, we squirm at our slated arrival here.

What do we know of the end, or what the end is in the first place? 
Let's not term death invincible and a monster already.
Why then do euthanasia and death sentences exist?