A horrible truth.

Death never seemed so real, till I closed my eyes, and they never opened again. My body got colder, and colder, and nobody could do anything to stop it. My hair fell out, my skin fell off the bone, and the worms began to have their fill as they made there way through the red chestnut casket. My soul wandered from grave to grave, and all I ever saw was the same damn thing. Death, decay, and forgotten souls. I left my eternal resting place to roam the world of the living hoping it would be better. The only thing I saw though, was more death, more decay, and even more forgotten souls. Man is better dead, for when they are dead, they can only hurt themselves, and the innocent stay innocent, and the wise get wiser, and the fool has time to think. This the reality of death, the horrible truth, but even after my words, I pray death never finds you.