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Fighting the Reaper
I walk this world alone,
Looking for a place to call my home.
Demon’s shadows loom over my path,
Wanting me to feel their wrath.
Tears of blood and sweat stream down my cheeks,
Upon this trail I run death reeks.
The night flies high over my head,
The moon is dyed a crimson red.
Nightmares cling to my clothes and skin,
Screaming that I cannot escape my sin.
The Reaper’s scythe glints in the moon lit light,
To stay alive it is clear I must fight.
I climb the steep jagged cliffs of death,
I gasp and choke for precious breath.
Only to find when I reach the top,
A sight that makes my heart stop.
A body laying white and limp under the Reaper’s cloak,
In its own blood it did soak.
It was my body, I was already dead.
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