I hear death calling my name. like a whisper in the dark. it knows everything about me yet it doesn't judge. it just sits and waits calmly. no hurry. no rush. it has no where else to be. it's just there waiting for me to answer. waiting for me to respond to its beckoning. it wears a long black robe and carries a sickle for cutting heads. it has all the time in the world. you can't out wait him. you can't trick him into thinking you're not there. there's not much of anything you can do but respect him and understand that he'll always be there for you. every step of the way. you never know when you might trip up and he'll be there with an extended hand. there to pull you over that cliff. to push you through that door. into the darkness where you'll wait no more.

and it doesn't really need you to be aware of him. you can be a baby and he'll be there in spirit. stroking your head. with a smile as innocent as the snow. death loves and cares for us all. it wants us all to keep going. it wants us all to know that there's nothing he can do. he has a job to do and he does it well. he cleans up our retched puke we call life. he walks behind us all. gobbling up every bit of remains that anyone dare leave behind. He sprakles his darkness over the top of every inch of light. he doesn't mean any harm. he has a job to do. and he does it well. there's no such thing as Time in Death's world. there is only meaning. and substance. there is only Life. there is only sex and laughter and a warm embrace. he has no eyes. but he sees all. he has no ears but he hears your every though. he has no nose but where ever you hide he can find you. it doesn't matter where you go death will always be near. there to guide and comfort you along your journey through the wilderness. on your journey through the wars, the strikes, the inflation, the cancerous energy plant right outside your door. its everywhere and its nowehere. its everything and it's nothing. its all knowing but yet completely nonexistent. he is a figmant of our imagination. but don't tell him that. He doesn't need to know he doesn't exist. for then how would he do his job? how would he know who to kill. and when to kill them? how would he know when the time is right? when your time is up. he doesn't know. he thinks he knows. but in reality he doesn't even exist. but don't tell him that. he's got a job to do. and he does it well.