I feel the reaper coming,
Coming to take my soul.
Feel the time is running-
Out, as each breath is old.

I feel the moments passing
As my heart turns to stone.
Feel the dreams aren't lasting,
As my mind burns cold.

When I am awake, I'm dreaming,
Dreaming of being awake.
I feel the cold hands creeping;
Reaching for my soul to take. 

See you standing there-
And.. and I cannot stay.
Heavy is this life of care-
And, as is my heart this day. 

Specters and echoes,
Looking to take my soul.
Lectures to let go-
Of when my story's told.

I feel you coming closer,
I will not. back. down.
The noose is dropping lower;
I will be finished, now. 

-Corbin

Death awaits
Beyond the gates,
Of the mortal walls that we call life.
The man that's there,
Gives an empty stare
And carries a heavy scythe.

An abstruse hand he lends
As he tends,
To be generous in this fateful gest.
The lost soul reaver,
The great bereaver
Who delivers your eternal rest.

Anxieties fear agnostic fronts seeking a plethora of suicidal nightmares.

Drowning in the pools of  blood of the sacrificial lambs.

The reaper depraves our body of our soul;
leaving us in a pile of dark ashen earth.

That pile is blown away by the dusts of time, he crept in and we are no more.

We speak, or rather you spoke
I listened

You'll be fine, you'll do great
You've got so much going for you

I never understood why you said that
Maybe just placating
Weary little broken boy toy me

What good was I, could hardly speak
Or look at faces, just shoes
All shame rotting away
In death trap little future overdose room

More ***** than brain
Felt skin sloughing off
Hair falling out dead anyway
While cancer ate away ulcerous stomach

When looked in mirror
Only saw death, reaving reaper
His scythe my smashed absinthe bottle
****** X marks the spot where
I drag everyone down with me

He steps forward from the shadows
His eyes shine with glee
As he reaches for the soul of the man
Who just departed dearly

Black clad people surround him
The Grim Reaper blends in just right
The dead man's soul walks towards him
He claps his hands with delight

"A new friend to play with!" he thinks
He's really starved for company
All the souls around him just mourn
For the lives they didn't live fully

No one ever thinks of him,
Doing this deary job
All day and night, without complaint
Bearing the hatred of the mob.

Everytime he collects a soul,
He thinks 'this will be one'
To look past his black robes and scythe,
Then he can finally have some fun.  

Bus alas, its seems as though,
It's just not meant to be
The Grim Reaper roams the realms,
Dejected and lonely.

No one realises that
He's just misunderstood
He's neither vicious nor cruel
He's always judged based on his looks

So next time you feel sad and alone,
Multiply that by infinity
Then you'll have a little idea of
How the poor Grim Reaper feels!

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.

Death who is pale and cold
He takes both young and old
His gaze sweeps 'cross the land
And all fall to his hand

He walks the fields of war
Where men fall to the sword
He haunts the scholars' hall
And spares no one at all

He rides a pale white steed
His every command it heeds
It bears him near or far
To where the dying are

Beware the Reaper's scythe
He comes to end your life
For always there is Death
When you take your last breath

born of magic, torn from life
cursed to feed on other's strife
immortal life is cursed indeed
living on a horrid greed
from year to year he wanders much
searching for his lover's touch
but there is beauty in self control
a glimpse of humanity left it's toll
for even though time has passed
there is nothing more pure than love that lasts
but with a soul in question, who would dare
to give their love into eternal despair
so a choice must be made
life for life forever is the trade
eternal damnation, that is the price
for love together, a homicidal vice
but no choice is made and time marches on
accidents happen and in a blink, she's gone
now he walks the beaten path
the ****** pilgrim, humanity replaced by wrath