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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