I am the end of every beginning. The light at the end of every tunnel is me.

Or perhaps darkness is more of a fitting image. But then again, that would mean the light never existed in the first place.

Death… that‘s what mortals call me.

No matter how much people fear and hate me, and however they once started, wherever they came from, whatever ranks or fortune they might possess;

Their stories end with me. It is the same for everyone.

Many people never think deeply enough to reach this realization, do they? Thus they never draw conclusions from it. That has always been a mystery to me, since it is a very simple fact.

I wouldn‘t go so far as to say life is meaningless. After all, why would it have come to exist in the first place, if that were the case?

On the countrary, life has a purpose, yet only a small number of select people ever seem to understand it.

The true purpose of life, that is. To become the best version of themseves, perhaps. Or to create a better world. If not that, at least a better neighbourhood. A better home.

And so almost everyday, I claim a life that had never fulfilled its purpose.

I wonder why people drown themselves in sin without questioning their beliefs, their actions, their every step. Because if you think about it, a human never knows what could happen next.

I, Death, could come take them the next instant.

Yet they spend their time picking on others, badmouthing them, dropping bombs on other nations, which increases my workload and ends lives for no reason that could have flourished into beautiful creatures, they make laws that cause pain and injustice, they indulge in egoism, capitalism and all these useless and strange things.

Jeez, they must really think they can take their fortune to their graves!

Sometimes I really feel like the human race is becoming more primitive as time passes.

But what is it to me.

I am merely doing my job. And they are merely rotting away.

(not my best one…)