As the Reaper creeps,
The frostbite climbs,
It's flesshless fingers
Grasping its razor sharp scythe
It's feet crunching the withered yellow grass,
The rattling intake of breath,
The sunken cheeks and the hollowed eyes,
That is the face of Death.
this reminds me of
this reminds me of dementors....:D.....love ya!!!
"What is this world but a dream that a sleeper sees - he delights in it for a few moments, and then wakes up to face reality"