Silenced by the demon named Death, laying there in that strong, timber coffin was an old man. An old man I loved.
Death; I guess It likes to play ‘Chasy’ with everyone, anyone who has a beating heart. It will chase you and you will just barely escape. Death is smart, wise and old; has been trapping people for thousands of years. Unlike humans, Death is immortal, eternally tormenting and chasing us until we’re It. Until we It, stored away in the trophy case of Death: rotting and grey, just the way It likes.
Death has tagged not only this old man but has got me running too. Hopefully, I can just barely escape.
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