The Reaper of time
Came surely round the bend,
With satchel upon curved aft.
With a glance toward forests and glades,
Upon time, ash he would cast.
For their being and what stood, would no longer.

His taunt would tantalize
Like a trot around the bend.
Never coming at the moment expected,
But surely to cast your end.

His ***** atrophied limbs
Would groan passing by;
Dragging you along for the ride,
Upon the Mortal's Circle for those who die.

And for those brave-hearted souls
Who wish to transcend,
Let it be knownst that in your beginnings
You too will find the end,
As the laughing Mara sends us back again!