I am the reaper of souls,
Sharper than the thorns of any rose,
You better watch out for your life,
Because I'll stab it dead like a knife,
Watching you shiver is my pleasure,
And your death will be my leisure,
You may die today or tomorrow,
And while dying may scream "no",
But that, I'd love to see,
Since you're just another to me.
I love that I get to choose
Whether you win or lose
This short game of life or death,
I'll even buy your funeral wreath,
I get to decide your fate,
For you to live it's too late,
For her another day,
Then on the ground she'll stay
Like every person's ending,
It'll be forever unbending.
Vague I definitely am not,
But I'm watching your body rot,
Ominous I have always been,
The last thing you see is my grin,
Dearest victim, please forget me not,
I'm not asking for a lot,
So while you suffer in endless hell,
And while your pitiful soul I sell,
Think of how I have cut you in half,
And how as you died I laughed.
Now I am again laughing,
Years later as I watch another dying,
He's panting and trying to scream,
But that's a faraway dream,
Because even if I had a heart, which I don't,
Let bastards live I won't,
They are liars and traitorous cheaters,
And they know I am ruthless even the reapers,
But I don't and will never care
Because I make them all despair.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of Death
Poetry"You kept saying that you would never die, that you would live forever. But here you are, and here I am. Isn't it funny? I'm here to take your soul. Did I mention, I love my job? Oh right! I never told you. I'm the reaper who will reap your life." B...
