Playing With Death - Part 1
The reaper called upon me as seeds I tried to sew.
The day appeared no darker, as death I did to know.
By happenstance I glanced at a minute box be bared.
The hooded figure knew, that at the small box I stared.
Gesturing with boney hand that lacked the sins of life.
Speaking slow in tongues unknown, that understood my strife.
'Boy come sit beside me upon our mother earth
And play with me a game, to show what life is worth'
Asking what the box could hold, I dared step back a pace.
The reaper waved a key, without absence of grace.
Slotting it in tiny lock - turning with a grind.
'Do not fear the reaper boy, its just a state of mind'.
How it came before me, I seem not to recall.
A board laid out implored me, king threatened to fall.
If death could grin he did so now, one you can't perceive.
And with single swipe of scythe, fabric of time he cleaved.
So it came to be for me, perched on cragged peak.
Limbo's mist surrounding me, forcing me so meak.
'Make your move and chose your fate' the reaper dared declare,
'Win and I shall take your place, though skill you can't compare.'
'Now it was my turn to speak, defiance in my tongue.
How can such a game be fair, if no-ones ever won?'
'What would you propose to play, what game can you provide?'
Answering him with devilish grin, 'we'll play Empires Collide'.