Death

The Grim Reaper, The symbol of death,
His scythe will kill, In one swift slash,
He’ll kill you, And take you to the other side,
He’s an omen, The Grim Reaper Death! ! !
The only way to, cheat Death the say,
Is to challenge, The Reaper in a game,
But no matter, What the game,
He will beat, You and take your soul.


It’s Cold, It’s Black,
It’s Dark, It’s Scary,
It’s Unavoidable,
It’s DEATH! ! !

Here comes the Reaper, Walking slow,
Scythe in hand, Ready to kill,
Some are frightened, Few are not,
They don’t want to die, They wanna live on.

It’s Cold, It’s Black,
It’s Dark, It’s Scary,
It’s Unavoidable,
It’s DEATH! ! !

It’s DEATH! ! !

It’s DEATH! ! !

It’s DEATH! ! !

by Elliott Paul Woolhouse

Other poems of WOOLHOUSE (13)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.