Poetic Tales and Philosophical Days: The Creator

Death has many Faces

Upon the sands of time lurks the almost powerful being; cold to the touch, a soul that has many tethers of time and a sharp objects that takes ours to the next.
   He lurks within others but his face always changes among the mortal plain.
   He follows us with a hourglass waiting for our time to end as well as a book so big that the pages are neverending.
  When the wind blows that misty chill and the sun dies off with no strength of warmth.
He waits for our last breath and yet still feels no remorse; taking the people we love, people that are to young and the ones who were innocent but theirs the one who were not.
  Following the rules he abides by that make him who he is.
   Death had many Faces among the masses of people; so look around and see if you can find death?