The mans spine popped out of his back, the ridged edges protruded from his skin.. it's skin, large abstract shapes tattooed the thinly veiled skin fitted upon his shoulders, ones container, deep shadows fed upon the mans body, each bone, each organ, each muscle all distinctly outlined with deep indents and contrasting shadows, for that was all it was. Not a body. Not a host. Just a container that housed the wrinkled and wearing bones of this thing.
For he was not a man beyond death, no, for he was not a man even close to such a thing, such a lie.
He waited, oh so long did he wait, he wished to die, why?
Why did the man? why did he? why did it.
Why did it wish to die?
For he had sacrificed everything, for this man only had his life, his being.
That was the only thing this man had, yet death avoided him, the eclipsing moon came and went, yet the reaper strayed off the path that met this man, the only path that met him, that met it...