The Secrets of Death

I know Death, for I have stared him in the eye. He comes to me in my dreams. He is my Guardian, but holds no similarities as that of a Guardian angel. He is not my friend, nor my foe, but walks hand in hand with my enemies. Fate and Destiny, are no friends of mine, and neither is Death. Yet in the depths of my conscience he whispers warnings of horrors that are to come. He sways my thoughts to avoid the end that confronts me. I know that I cannot blame him for all death that follows me, for it was not his fault nor his job to stop it. It is only his job to guide the dead to where they will stay for the rest of eternity. Oh, but some days I feel the tug of the end and I pray for nothing more than for him to take my away from the land of the living, away from my living hell. Yet he refuses me and turns away with only sadness in his eyes. Death is not the kind to feel.