The Reaper Is My Father

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This developed from a short story I wrote, in where the main character has the job of being The Reaper, a family tradition. But, the snag was, he had to die, to inherit the job...

Submitted: May 27, 2007

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Submitted: May 27, 2007

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Laying under the spotlights

The life machine's steady beep

The frantic madness

White coated Gods

Towards Death I creep

 

He comes to me

On silent wings

Sits down

And takes my hand

He tells me of

MY triumphs and sins

And of the path I walked

 

He showed me scenes

Of which I'd dreamed

As the madness

Drowned away

In slumber deep

My life seeped

Until

A steady tone

 

He pulled down his hood

To show me his face

I was aghast with surprise

I stared in his eyes

There was nothing to despise

The reaper was my Father


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