THE GRIM REAPER by Yash Srivastava

AmeriCymru
@americymru
11/27/16 10:25:04PM
112 posts

I feel a darkness pervade my soul

As I approach the funeral procession

The mourners contemplate their ephemeral lives

As if sinners in confession.

...

I hear the wailing fill the heavens

A sea of black, like an unkindness of ravens

I take a gander, till I see the scythe

On skeletal face, his countenance blithe.



“No man shall see me, and live,” he said

His voice at once ethereal and hollow

“At last,” I cried, “the Angel of Death”

Arm outstretched, he beckoned me to follow.



No one ventured to break the silence

As we walked amidst the tolling bell

And sure enough, we reached the pit

Crowning entrance to the gates of hell.



And so I take the final plunge

Into the fathomless abyss

Desiderating an acquaintance with the Devil

Perhaps steal an innocent kiss.








updated by @americymru: 11/27/16 10:26:04PM