Pray

As the angel of death there is a job I must do so when the time comes 
I will appear to you

In one hand I hold a scythe and I am dressed all in black
where you are going you are never coming back

You cannot see my face it is hidden beneath a blackened hood
there is no use in running and hiding from me as it will do you no good

I will check you off my list and put a red mark though your name 
it makes no difference who you are to me your all the same

So when your near the end of your life and you know I am on my way
Don't try to fight the inevitable just close your eyes and pray.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace