I am Death

A scythe of silver flashes across your vision, the final glimpse of your life, the proverbial white light at the end of the tunnel.  There is no St. Peter awaiting for you before gates of pearl, only a grinning skull that looks upon you with eyeless sockets, a figure who see's more than just your flesh.  This stranger of dark design says nothing as he strips away your humanity with out touch, tears apart your soul with but a single thought, leaving only a lifeless shell of what you used to be.  It is but a moment that passes by when you see, feel, hear, taste and smell everything, a glimpse of the infinite in which created you, this world.  You realize to late your existence, that the strands of the knowing and understanding were hanging above your head like a noose to cinch around your throat.  Now, as I hold you within my boney hand, you comprehend your insignifigance, how minute it is compared to the rest of the universe.  I have no pity to give you, no soothing words of comfort, you in fact do not deserve such acts.