Killing is the kiss of death, its embrace, extinction. The bravest heart quails to look it in the face and trembles at its sight. The strong in body and robust in mind and defiant of spirit and undaunted in courage, that think they can make light of death and frighten and fight death itself, are in the end overpowered by the all-conquering death.
Like camels padding softly in the sand, cowardly death walks with deadened steps. Used to stratagem, he lurks in silence and works by ambush and surprisal. He pounces upon his victim who now lies helplessly tossing in bed, fighting in vain to keep off death’s icy hands circling round his neck to smother and squeeze out his life. Death’s ghastly pallor comes over his livid face, the breath begins to rattle laboriously in the throat, his voice is stilled, he stares with sightless eyes, his dear ones around him watch with bated breath his every breath fearing it to be his last, the convulsions of the body, at grip with soul struggling to leave it, grow keener, life gradually ebbs out of him, it dries up in his veins, the heart ceases its beating, and he gives up his ghost. Triumphant death prostrates him in the dust.
When my body begins to break, and my mind becomes feeble, when my eyesight fails and hearing fades, when the lamp of my life burns low and weak in life and limb; then when certain death sounds its fatal summons, give me strength and courage to discharge life’s last debt, Ahura Mazda. When the day of my toil is over and the night calls me to rest, let not the evening twilight be longer and leave me not lingering on my sick-bed. When my life does hang on a thin thread and I live on the brink of the grave suffering unbearable pain, hasten, in Thy Mercy, O Merciful Lord, death the deliverer and command him not to kill me inch by inch but to give me a speedy, painless death.
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