He's laying there, so vunurable
The amount of people I've killed? Innumerable
One touch of my scythe and you'll be dead
My scythe? It's permanently red
Why's he worrying?I'm just coming to collect him
He needs to come, his time is due
My black, lifeless eyes stare deep into his soul
Sucking his life force as he falls into a hole
Leading to hell, where he'll be with me forever
Constantly being burnt by soul-thirsty embers
Now he's gone to the fire that's forever glowing
But one soul a day is not going to keep me going
I need another soul or maybe two
Luckily I have found someone, it's you :)
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Author:
Mysterious Poet (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 18th, 2017 00:51
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 57
- Users favorite of this poem: alisha
Offline)
Comments6
Good write, death is always around us.
Really liked this.....I write about death and things....its interesting (ok that sounds wierd)
Reading over this poem and your others, it impresses me that you write very well for your age, and you also express well the mixed bag of emotions so common at that age. I suspect both your writing and your adjustment to this life will both bring you happiness as you grow, and I encourage you to keep at them, and best of luck to you as you do.
The Grim Reaper cometh, A collector of souls, and we are all ...next. Got to keep up with quotas. Nice refreshing take on the darkest subject of all.
- Phil A.
Death is the great leveller! It does not discriminate or show favor. Everyone will die, it's the one thing every human being, and all life, share in common! Love the twist at the end, how death turns to look at the reader! Great write!
Death is the great leveller! It does not discriminate or show favor. Everyone will die, it's the one thing every human being, and all life, share in common! Love the twist at the end, how death turns to look at the reader! Great write!
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