A Second Disguise.
Nobody knows its beauty. Nobody lives to tell this tale of death. Its swiftness, to some like a wind of change, unannounced, unwelcome. To others, an unending road marred with pain, distant memories and suffering. Imperfect looks, faltering skin sits pale with cold emotions. This being, once fertile, now bleak and blank. This thing is not trapped in a sequestered spot. It is everywhere, looking & lurking; waiting for its next victim. Only appearing when summoned.
This thing may not be as bad as it seems.
It brings the reassurance of peace in the beauty of its sleep, freedom from the shackles of mortality and the body resting in an echo of silence. So It may wake, Immortal.
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