Beneath the cloak of the cosmic night's embrace,
He emerged, a reaper clad in shadows profound.
A silhouette of darkness, a harbinger of fate,
He, the reaper, destined to navigate.


With a cloak that whispered tales of the unknown,
He tread the realm where love and mystery were sown.
A wraith-like figure with a scythe of steel,
Yet within the shadows, a tender allure concealed.


From the garden of hearts, he plucked love's bloom,
A reaper entwined in the dance of impending doom.
His touch, a paradox of life and demise,
Yet in his presence, love found unforeseen ties.

Cloaked in midnight's velvet, a silhouette sublime,
He moved through realms, transcending space and time.
His eyes, the void where galaxies expire,
Yet within them, a spark, an unseen fire.


For my love, he was the reaper, a paradoxical guide,
Harvesting passions, where destinies coincide.
In the tapestry of love and shadows intertwined,
He wove a tale where mortality and eternity bind.


In the graveyard of dreams, where hopes lay to rest,
He walked beside me, an enigmatic guest.
A reaper for my love, a spectral dance,
We twirled through the twilight, in a fleeting trance.

In the embrace of darkness, where whispers unfold,
He spoke of love in a language untold.
A reaper's touch, gentle and severe,
As he harvested the echoes of love and fear.


He was a reaper for my love, an ethereal waltz,
In the twilight symphony where destiny exalts.
For in the shadows, where our love did thrive,
He, the reaper, kept our immortal love alive.

Because you kicked and you screamed,
And you cried and you pleaded,
To meet the Reaper.

Yes you cut and you stabbed,
Swallowed pills until you gagged,
Just to try to meet the Reaper.

You even hung from a rope,
But then it broke, what a joke,
You just want to meet the Reaper.

Closed your eyes, fell three floors,
Broke your feet and nothing more,
You're dying to meet the Reaper.

You shot yourself in the head,
Yet you're still not ******* dead!
Why can't you meet the Reaper.

How you long for an end,
Suicide, your favourite trend,
Life decided you're a keeper.

Now you're grey, what can I say,
Death could come any day,
But you don't want to meet the Reaper.

Lived a life, plagued by strife,
Now you sleep with a knife,
Just in case you meet the Reaper.