PDC (June 7th / Toronto)

The Reaper

Hello my friend
He whispers in my ear
Your Time has come
Your Soul is mine
I feel his icy hand on my shoulder
I turn to see nothing
He is there
He is in the room with me
Always watching
Always waiting
In the shadows I see him
I can see the reflection from the sickle
The sounds of his robes as he passes
He knows my name
He knows when and how
Yet he never shares
We fear him
He asks not for this privilege
It is merely his job
The blade is always by my throat
He waits for the day I falter
The day I allow the sickle to do its job

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Other poems of DODHAM CORMIER (31)

Comments (1)

And yet Phillip, if we believe in the Lord our God through His son Jesus, we shall fear no evil, even though we may walk in the valley of the shadow of death. I do not fear the Grim Reaper, because when my time comes, that my body is no more, then I will know it was the Lord our God who called me through His son Jesus, to come home. You have written a very soul stirring poem of how we view the image of the Grim Reaper. Your image rich poem will be with me for a long time. Love & hugs, Barbara