Sinister: The requested Poem.

Jason Andreas jasonandreas at xxx.net
Wed Sep 8 17:27:52 BST 1999


Well, Elliot, you asked for it :)


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The Reaper  by Jason Andreas


A silent figure stands alone,
Black shroud veiling shining bone,
Shadows hover round his frame,
He's a hunter - life's the game,
Metal glints upon a scythe,
He's the Reaper, end to life.

Beside his horse of ghostly white,
The Reaper looms within the night,
Where he'll go, we cannot tell,
Perhaps to Heaven - else to Hell,
But when it's you he looks upon,
You'll soon see oblivion.

The Reaper's eyes are blue and cold,
Like the stars in days of old,
When he moves they both shine bright,
As comets in the fleeting night,
And when your soul is to depart,
That cowléd face shall stop your heart.

The Reaper, through, is cold and sad,
He thinks of friends he's never had,
No family to call his own,
Just a dark and empty home,
And now he moves with little vigour,
For who could love this ghastly figure?

His duty now is all that matters,
Although his soul is left in tatters,
The only choice is to go on,
A player with a mournful song,
For he's the Reaper made of bone,
Condemned forever as alone.

---------------

Let me know what you think.



-- Jason Andreas
-- I don't believe in God, I believe in people.

ICQ: 45821217



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