Death comes to those who don't look.
Death awaits those who wait.
Death runs when you run.
And death runs when you stop, but when you wait, death slows down ,visually, but never physically,looking for another way around you, to strike you at your weakest point.
You,then,fall prey to the releasing of your soul.
Your soul now becomes an addition to my collection ; my collection of beautiful mistakes....
I am unameable.
I am unseen.
I am the herald of death.
I am The Reaper.
