Like a man changes as he grows, death has different form for each of us.
They choose the time and way of death depending on their taste and preference.
Death is special, every single one of them.
My Death was a kind one. Heart attack isn't really a bad choice.
Except he was an asshole who leaves X mark on my eyes.
Some say that death is like the wind. You rest unconsciously as your precious fiery soul ejects from the body. Then you are drifting away to wherever the wind takes you. You might end up in heaven or somewhere else. The only punishment is getting lost, but souls can find their way back.
But I rather be drifting away continuously, eternally sleeping until someone catches my slumbering body. Who's this someone?
The person I deeply trust.