The Reaper
He wears a cape,
As black as night.
It hides his body,
Uncovers not a slight.
He carries a scythe,
That glitters in the light of the moon.
He uses it to end lives,
Leaving body parts strewn.
His limbs are bones,
Not a single stroke of flesh.
He has no muscles, no hair,
He is a bony mesh.
He has lifeless eyes,
The darkest shade of grey.
You had better watch your back,
The Reaper will make you pay.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Poetry
PoésieJust a few of my poems I've scribbled down when bored. WARNING - some poems are very dark and not for the faint-hearted.
