The Reaper’s Scythe

In the darkest depths of breathless night
I feel The Reaper over me;

Contemplating my demise.

His swinging scythe thirsts for pale delight
To send my world to blackened sea;

Disconnecting my dead eyes.

A vicious veil removes every sight
As mortal thoughts begin to flee;

Unraveling my life’s ties.

I let loose my grip that held on tight
And kept this deadly life so free;

Relinquishing my disguise.


by Max Ambrose, March 27, 2018

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