Death is cold like the Artic,
Potent like rotten food.

He comes for your loved ones with an outstretched hand, as if asking for candy on Halloween night.

He’s evil, taking your loved ones away like it’s a game, because to him it is no different to a sport.

But why is he feared.

He can’t touch you if you’re not close to the edge of his world, his world of Death.

We fear him because he is the one who will take our souls the day after, day before, or day of.