Gentleman Death steals babies breath and old men in their sorrows. He takes our moments then and now and all of our tomorrows. He comes for those asleeping, he comes for those awake, he comes for all in their good time, disruption is his wake. His touch is sometimes sudden, or gentle as falling snow but never is the time of it a thing that we can know. When we hear his raspy voice acalling on the wind we know that he has come to take an enemy or friend. Sometimes his touch is a great gift but many times a sorrow when we see not the reason for that taking of tomorrow.