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Reaper OF Souls
She waits and watches,
She scares and touches.
You're fast asleep and do not know,
Her touch is as light, as the feather of a row.
She'll make you fall asleep,
She waits for you to fall asleep for her to creep.
Her breathing is not there,
Her skin is anything but fair.
She is all bones, with a dark black cloak,
She waits for you to die, maybe from smoke.
She's always there, no matter what,
She just waits for your eyes, to shut.
She doesn't cry,
But she will not lie.
When she comes for you,
Do not be blue.
Just wait patiently for yourself to be old,
There she will be, in the midst of the cold.
Don't bother screaming, no one will hear,
The only thing she sees, is that silent tear.
She doesn't feel bad,
Not even a bit sad.
This is her job,
So do not sob.
For she, is the Reaper of Souls,
She has no emotion, and rain, off her it rolls.
As I write, she is still at work,
You will never know where she might lurk.
She still waits and watches,
She scares, stares and touches.
Her eyes are the color of coals,
For she is the horrid, Reaper of Souls.
