Death

How long had He walked the Earth?

Aeons? He didn't know anymore.

Nature never minded His presence. After all, He was part of the Circle of Life. Mankind, however, detested him. They tried everything to evade him, to no avail. Some called Him an Angel, some called Him the Grim Reaper.

How foolish to think that a being like Him would bear any semblance to man.

He wasn't the darkness mankind portrayed him to be, neither was he the bright light the dying claimed to see. He was incorporeal.

He mourned for every being he took from and bore the burden of guilt and sorrow.

He was the first being to walk the earth, and the last.

Now, He lay at the base of the Tree of Life and took his time to appreciate the tranquillity and beauty of the moment.

He admired the majestic stars that dotted the night sky, the pearlescent moon that now seemed so close and savoured the feeling of the soft, damp earth around him for the last time. He bid the celestial bodies goodbye and slept.

His life of loneliness, grief and yearning had come to an end. He was finally released from his grievous task.