Death as a sentient entity is a concept that has existed in many societies since the beginning of history. In English, death is often given the name the "Grim Reaper" and from the 15th century onwards came to be shown as a skeletal figure carrying a large scythe and clothed in a black cloak with a hood. It is also given the name of the Angel of Death (Hebrew: מַלְאַךְ הַמָּוֶת‎ Malach HaMavet) stemming from the Bible.

In some cases, the Grim Reaper is able to actually cause the victim's death, leading to tales that he can be bribed, tricked, or outwitted in order to retain one's life. Other beliefs hold that the Spectre of Death is only a psychopomp, serving only to sever the last tie from the soul to the body and guide the deceased to the next world and having no control over the fact of their death.

In many languages Death is personified in male form (English including), while in others it is perceived as a female character (for instance, in Slavic languages, e.g. in Polish).

this song says about the feeling i have right now.

These are the eyes that can’t see me
These are the hands that drop your trust
These are the boots that kick you around
This is the tongue that speaks on the inside
These are the ears that ring with hate
This is the face that’ll never change
This is the fist that grinds you down
This is the voice of silence no more

These are the legs in circles run
This is the beating you’ll never know
These are the lips that taste no freedom
This is the feel that’s not safe
This is the face you’ll never change
This is the God that ain’t so pure
This is the God that is not pure
This is the voice of silence no more

We the people
Are we the people?

Some kind of monster
The monster lives

This is the face that stones you could
This is the moment that needs to breathe
These are the claws that scratch these wounds
This is the pain that never leaves
This is the tongue that whips you down
This is the burden of every man
These are the screams that pierce your skin
This is the voice of silence no more

This is the test of flesh and soul
This is the trap that smells so good
This is the flood that drains these eyes
These are the looks that chill to the bone
These are the fears that swing over heard
These are the weights that hold you down
This is the end that will never end
This is the voice of silence no more

We the people
Are we the people?

Some kind of Monster
The monster lives

This is the could that swallows trust
This is the black that uncolors us
This is the face that you hide from
This is the mask that comes undone

Ominous
I’m in us