The Grim Reaper

O death! A thief you are in the darkest night
Although you visit even in the sunniest of days
At times you come swiftly with fury and might
Mayhem, chaos and uproar; in a violent haze
Times when you’re unseen, or quickly out of sight
But your handiwork endures, and sorrow stays!
For some, you linger; days, weeks even years
Heaping abuse on their bodies, and indignities
On their spirits; spawning grief, pain, tears
Aye! you tarry, then leave with no apologies
Their looks gone; in their faces torment appears
As they cross over, ending life’s possibilities!
Others, you treat with sham kindness, deceivin’
You inhabit their dreams; then they wake up not
Goodbyes unspoken, they know not they’re leavin’
No chance to make amends, undo what they forgot!
It’s cruelty, not kindness, harsh and unforgivin’
Loved ones left to grieve, lives forever fraught!
You take young ones, their lives just beginning
Others, you wait till they’re doddery and frail
You cut off a tender shoot, just a mere seedling
Before it fully blossoms, or unfurls its sail
Yet others, you let spend numbing days forgetting
Their lives; erasing joyful memories without fail!
Reaper, grim and ruthless, for that’s what you are
Certainly, I shall meet you, just a matter of when
A long life I’ve lived, traveled near and far
Still be gentle, and let me cross over with no pain
But before you come, give me time to prepare
Be ready to meet the Lord, when I wake up again!
©  Vic Evora

Recently I have been preoccupied with death. For in the past fifteen months, twelve people in my life have passed away. Relatives, friends and colleagues. Constant reminders that soon it may be my turn. I pray I shall be ready,


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