Comfort At the Reaper's Scythe

Reared and disciplined But never in immortality Confined to repetition Wading through banality Longing for an aura of comfort and peace I run from the reaper, as if I could escape that beast She stalks me adroitly I wait for her steel My sweat is profuse My soul I can feel Warm is her touch Gentle her demeanor Loving her embrace, A beauty if you have seen her Before I could contemplate Even the most logical thought She marked me on her list And of me, she never forgot Oh reaper, come take me away Vanquish the weak, but with you I wish to stay Feeling so gelid without your caress You whisper softly, "Come my child and lean on my chest" I follow blindly for your voice is my nepenthe Never could I expect such beauty to be so deathly My soul I give to you and to you alone Even the mightiest of kings, will one day give you his throne My lady, come hither and remove my strife I pray to you softly Comfort me with your scythe