The Soul Reaper

Reaper
the night, silent like the ocean-

or a lifeless corpse

nothing is stirring;

all is still;

hush.

the reaper is black,

and blue and silver,

like the moon.

his song drags out like

a pained moan,

here to reap, here to sow.

the reaper, the reaper,

he sings, he sings,

he carries a scythe

gleaming silver and white

like the moon.

his face, featureless, blank-

like an unfurnished house-

or a broken skeleton

eyes like the deepest pits

of lava

like death.

the reaper drifts

like an autumn leaf

like a phantom

here to reap, here to sow.