Ode to The Reaper

The Reaper is not scared of the seasons —
the sun, moon, day or night
all bow to him,
angelic knees trembling with fear.

He takes what it is —
poor, hungry souls,
and he sends them on a journey
of sweet torment
where they writhe
in painful pleasure.

See his contorted face
set in grim lines. His smile
oozes maggots.
His appearance, a gruesome sight.

He feeds on tears. Aye,
despair is his dessert,
for his shadow wilts the
brightest of flowers
eager to start a new day.

Come, child.
The Reaper beckons.
Come, child.
Do not keep him waiting.
Come, child.
Do not fear the Reaper.

© Mayoress

Oladapo Oluwamayowa is Nigerian writer and poet. She is an English student of Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, Osun state. A few of her works have been published on WordPress. You can contact her on 08097001280. 

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