Death, bringer of <br />Dreadful, grim injustice <br />With his cloak built of <br />And composed of <br />Woven shadows <br />And broken dreams <br />The light playing sickly <br />Off his blood-stained <br />Scythe that glows with <br />The souls of the <br />Damned and dead <br />Broken and desperate <br />Sinners and innocents alike <br />His sullen, empty eyes <br />Read no mercy, emotion, <br />Or sympathy <br />The only thing that <br />Drives his soulless form <br />Is the whip <br />Snapping in the back of his mind <br />That is his revenge <br />Hovering sombrely <br />Hovering sinisterly <br />Hovering dutifully <br />Hovering patiently <br />Calling the names <br />Of those whose <br />Time has ended <br />So others can begin.<br /><br />Amanda Vid<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grim-reaper-4/
