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Under the Reapers Cloak

The mysterious cloaked woman stiffly walked down the dark damp alleyway. 
She listened to the talkative wind blow through the leafless frozen trees as if they 
were whispering about the sad look upon her face. The fog followed her and 
surrounded her black knee high boots, which made a maddening clopping 
sound as they struck the wet hard cobblestone pathway. The woman slowly 
walked up to a weathered  wooden door, secretly her arm raised to it and she 
made a hollow knock .From the other side you could hear a deep clink as an old 
man unbolted the door and stuck his wrinkled face outside. The mysterious 
woman leaned toward him and mumbled something into his cauliflowered ear, 
something that made him look shocked, then she stared deeply in his elderly 
green eyes like she was staring into his soul. As if he were under a trance the 
old man widened the door to let her enter, but before she did so she sniffed the 
air blowing across her pale face. The woman again whispered in his ear, “the 
time is of now”, she swiftly crossed the entrance. Her hood floated across the 
elders face, the old man knowing he had just let death in, as he saw a metallic 
blade under her smooth cloak glisten.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




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Date: 3/25/2016 11:09:00 PM
James, Enjoyed the way you expressed every line. Please keep writing and sharing your poetry. LOVE LINDA
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