The Reaper Unnerved

Introspective meditations
recall lost dreams
shanghaied like befuddled seamen
in dinghies of desolation

Incalculable laments
haunt hushed minds
who wait for Azrael
to amass his quota

Yet death takes pause
regrets laid heavy
upon shrouded shoulders
and veiled glances

To what end
this gruesome task
laid waste among its casualties
weighed down with grief and heartache

The reaper weeps
in angst and fear
prostrate, exhausted lay
among those who stagger

empathetic thoughts
strike like daggers
yet no hope to end the pain
no harvester comes calling

no discharge for the dying
while death succumbs
…almost human
to angst, to shame

battling an ocean of darkness
that drowns the screams
the thresher succumbs
to unforeseen sentiment

creation stands still
while death regains its grip
the scythe is raised again
and fields are cleared

for the reaper cannot feel
...the reaper cannot rest
......the dying cannot wait