Converse.

The tale of Life and Death is not that of maliciousness. Of a possessive jealousy between antithesises. It is far, far too prepossessing to be of such travesty. Death does not venomously purloin from Life, as if there were a bitter feud betwixt the two. No. It is Life, that is hopelessly, and irretrievably in love with Death. And to prove such a love, has commissioned her untold quantities of gifts resembling just that. For there is no greater gift, than the gift of Life. And Death, Death is able to posses that legacy. Forever.