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
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment