Horror stories for you

The one who many fear

I work upon the top of a hill

Calling to god’s will

My kiss,is an endless abyss.

Perhaps you know who this is.

I see and hear the millions

On a planet full of billions

This job is my pain

For I take those with nothing more to gain.

I enjoy those who aren't  tortured.

But never more I wish to know,

Where do I stand?

I've seen many burn

There are so many more, who'll have a turn.

I shall not witness,

Utter forgiveness, from my hands to them.

This job, one would also want.

Many try to bring them to me early.

I am cracking down with one swift sway.

With my hands of fate.

To seal the deal

To utterly forgive, the ones who had no say.

My job makes me witness a true sight.

There isn't a tunnel with a light.

No, only a figure in a mask.

Dancing in this masquerade.

Rich or Poor?

I'll never tell.

I don't need to sell what I am saying.

I am history-making.

I do show some remorse

For the little ones who lose the Gamble.

Who must work on me

A brown hooded specter

Many ask what God has planned.

Sometimes plain as day I do understand.

But on them few sorrow filled days I have,

Even the plan from the iron forge.

Crafted since I was born.

Is my own kiss of death