Death is standing in my doorway,
Death is ringing on my bell.
I refuse to simply listen,
I refuse to just get up.
Even thought I know its there,
I will never shift myself.

Death is knocking on my doorway,
“Let me in” it tells me then.
I can already taste the smolder,
From the ashes on its shoulder,
Brought up all the way from hell.

Death is knocking on my doorway,
Death is walking through the door,
Death is ever near my presence.
Death has prophesied my toll.

“Just let go of all your troubles,
Take my hand and be reborn,
As entirely new someone,
With no old memories at all.”

I refuse to its voice listen,
I cannot let go the world,
To my relatives I grab,
And I scream but they hear silence
To my friends I bid adieu
And they say he just grew old

Spiders crawl upon my shoulder
Far too heavy is the boulder
Hanging from my scrawny neck
Growing distant, ever colder
I am getting ever older,
Ever closer to inevitable end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Illustration for an article that deals with people being murdered by stress... aka "stress shortens your lifespan"

Special thanks to , as his tasty photography shots inspired the facial expression for this piece.

Drawing time: several days
What it is: Illustrator and Photoshop CS brush work
Hardware used: Wacom Intuos 6x8 tablet