The Grim Reaper
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In the shadows of my mind
I see there painted black
Suffering as if he’s blind
In the darkness is his knack
Pain and sorrow he brings
Knowing that we dread
The day when he rings
The bell whom we’ve fled
Our demise brings him glee
Like it will bring others grief
From him we cannot flee
He comes around like a thief
For tender worries to remind
Why he might hold back
His grim touch unassigned
Demise that will attack
Mysterious and filled with fear
He delights in our termination
Welcoming us any time of the year
With a sad and gloomy flirtation
Whether morning, noon or night
He isn’t a respecter of persons
Often greeting us with fight
Against some illness that worsens
Ethereal silence accompanies him
With a vague, misty beckoning
Coloring our hearts a deep grim
Because it’s the day of reckoning
As I contemplate the time of death
With curiosity that is quite eerie
I am assured that I will draw breath
In paradise where it is never dreary
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (25) ,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
August 20, 2020
Copyright © Regina Mcintosh | Year Posted 2020
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