An Ode To Grim

I carry the scythe,
And ride despair.
My shadow leaves a trail,
Dark with no compare.

I reap your soul,
And lead the path.
To the afterworld,
Flowers or wrath.

On my shoulder the Raven,
It suits my skin.
A lonely angel,
With Death my kin.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s