The one who lost

Death rapes me every night, visiting me more than once a day. Each time death draws near, I surrender my body without resistance, and it toys with my soul, playing with it until it tires of the game and leaves me for another encounter. I wonder who will come and rescue me from this turmoil of death, who can bear the stench of death emanating from my tiny pores, who can silence the voice of death that echoes within my head, who will pull me from its depths that threaten to engulf and destroy me. I think and think and think, but find no satisfactory answers, no convincing conclusions. I spin in a mill of thoughts, lost in a labyrinth of questions.