The reaper's eyes were on her,
Yet she never bowed.
The reaper's ax chose her,
Yet she never soughed.
Death was finally in love,
With the girl he could never cow,
For she was something he could never have,
A girl with a skin too firm to swallow.
Why couldn't he touch the girl,.
The girl whose tears never fell,
The girl whose eyes are pearl,
The girl whose voice is a shim of bell?
Her secret wasn't a mystery,
She was too pure to be touched by maleficence.
The reaper desired her for her rarity,
But his hands burned at the touch of virtuousness.
Death chased her everyday,
In the hopes of taking her soul,
But her soul was too far away,
Far away for him to hold.
The young maiden didn't even notice
The harvester at her tail.
She was too involved in lightness
For her to witness his veil.
The reaper's ax was rotting,
It was yearning blood,
Though who he was lusting,
Was nothing but an illusion set by god.
The girl was a mirage,
God's own penalty,
Towards the slayer,
That gave birth to misery.