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Grim Reaper
January 27, 2014
Holding on to the thin string of my lifeline,
The scissors get closer... and closer,
Death is coming.
With the sharp blade,
He rips me apart,
Death is coming.
The long scythe slashes my torso,
Opening yet another new wound,
Death is coming.
His face obscured,
Only known to the world of ambiguity,
Death is coming.
Darkness seeps slowly,
Out of the mystical cloak,
Swirling between my eyes,
Sucking my soul away,
Death is coming.
The scissors snip, snip, snip away,
My lifeline breaks,
Death has arrived.
© Megan B., Harpers Ferry, WV
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