He stares at you every day, his blank face haunting you.

He sees into your soul — his gaze is so blank that you dare not look him straight in the face.

His grim face — motionless, makes you uneasy.

Whenever you walk, run, go to work — he hangs around you and it makes you afraid. You can’t help but think that one day he will come to your door, knock, and take you away, never to see your friends and loved ones again.

As you come nearer and nearer to his coming, you fear that knock on the door.

Fear grips you — so strong is your fear, you feel as though it will surround you.

When you finally accept his coming, you open the door.

When he takes you away, he doesn’t take you to a building, or a large room. He brings you to a gate, then a field, and finally — a bed of stone.

You lay there, on a bed of cold stone.

You can’t get up — you never will.

Everyone morn even though they k ew this day would come — even he is there, but no one can see him.

He wonders if the time was right — whether or not he should have taken you from them.

All of us will leave with him at one point. We just don’t know when Death will come knocking at our door.

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