Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Reapers and His Scythe

After a while,
A very long time,
These Creatures chased me down.
They were born in black,
With laughing skulls,
And poison upon their skin.

Colors worshiped them,
Deep Greens,
And Golds and Silvers,
For they gave birth to Kings,
And Rulers,
Who In turn gave birth to them.

Love and kindness went out a ways,
When these Men were born unto the world.
Unrespected except in fear,
They drew upon their choices,
To give them strength,
And comfort,
Found from no one else.

Their Scythes all different,
But Scythes the same,
They drew upon Death,
And his madness,
To save them from the day.

To all find a reaper-man,
Watch him as he grows,
The black cloak will find him,
And hug him tight,
The poison has yet to go.


"Wary is a person of fear who respects the fearful, And tired of Continuous Pain,
To keep his repect in turn."

ISA

No comments:

Post a Comment