A Servant of DeathBeginning. That's what my life is, a beginning, with no ending. My life is not my own, but it belongs to Death himself. I live a life not decided by me, but Death. He chose me, my poor merciful mind and body. He chose it, he chose to destroy it. The worthless people come to me and beg, beg for the truth, the future. I don't give it to them though because I know it will only make their lives worse. I lay in my bed every night unable to sleep, because that's what Death chose. I listen to Death's evil, yet majestic voice, saying a simple name. Every syllable is perfectly pronounced, and then they die. Death chooses their time, and then their
Have a look at this when you have a mo, made by students in my film class, think you might like: [link]
I'm also going to show them your photos - lots of inspiration here.
Great shot!