Upon a moonless night I wander
Through the graveyards so old
Upon my shoulder lays death, his hand forever cold
And upon my dying soul, it crushes and chokes
Upon my weakened body lies the sheath of deaths cloak,
Enfolding me in chilly warmth,fear is the emotion evoked
And as I look up at my companion, his eyes falls upon my face
I look away from their pale sombre gaze
For the image I see, is not meant to be
For what stares back is the face of me
I walk amongst the graves, for I am their keeper
For this is the death march of a Grim Reaper.
Author notes
This was just a fun poem to write. it has no meaning behind it and probably sucks to most of you but I had a ball writing it.
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