The Reaper

Through lofty woods, I was walking, and to myself, softly talking,

As on the breeze a Raven’s squawking could be heard among the leaves.

At once a wind began to rise, moaning its melancholy sigh

To the crack and creak of wooden cries which answer from amidst the trees.

I walked alone, without a guide through that windswept place amidst the trees.

No soul in sight except for me.

.

I forged along beneath the hail of branches snapping from the gale,

As a man appeared on my trail, then waited and watched silently.

He was adorned in black and gloom; like the well from which shadows bloom.

I shook my head, “too much presumed, ’tis some traveller, lost, like me.”

Muttering as my pace resumed, “’tis just some wanderer like me;

Perhaps someone for company”

.

I began a greeting, “Ho, friend, do you, against this storm, contend?”

He answered not. His robe blackened to the dark of moonless night at sea.

He moved and in his robe, black waves teemed from the movement of limbs unseen.

Between my lips began a keen, as he approached amidst those trees.

I tried to run and tried to scream, but I could not move amidst those trees.

There would be no escape for me.

.

The shadow wrapped figure drew near, and my breath became ragged with fear.

As his hood drew back, I saw clearly the face of death, a Monstrosity:

Moving parts of bone and machine; pale sockets where eyes should’ve been.

“Begone you foul horror, you fiend!” I whispered as I strained to speak.

It sighed, that ivory mask, serene, and the figure deigned to speak:

“Fate awaits, in eternity.”

.

At the toll of those fateful words, there echoed through the trees, faintly heard,

The fluttering squawk of midnight birds, as they did, from this figure, flee.

“I know not from whence or whereof thou came, but for the sake of love

Or whatever God is above, please don’t take me!” I breathed for mercy,

“For the wretched damned and the judged,” he spake to me, “there is no mercy,

For Fate waits, in eternity.”

.

With a melancholy cry, forlorn, the breath left my ragged form,

As I did, an unlived life, mourn. Visions filled my eyes of what would be:

A love unloved, replaced by sorrow, no midnight passions borrowed.

No dreams or lusts for tomorrow. Instead, a lover’s bed, left lonely.

No wedding sweet, no children follow. Just a lover’s bed, left lonely.

Lonely, for an eternity.

.

The visions faded from my eyes, and with them drained away the lives

I could have lived and could have died, leaving me with the Monstrosity.

I rasped, “Is there no other way? Are we doomed to loss and pain?”

“This is the way,” I heard him say, “for you, friend, and also for me;

Every life has a tithe of dismay. The same for you, the same for me:

Nothing worth having comes for free.

.

The red rose blossoms cannot bloom without their fate of wilted doom.

They must risk being cut too soon if they are to shine so brightly.

So it is for those born of the womb, who often mistakenly assume

That death doesn’t wait for them too; that they could never die early.

But both are destined to grace a tomb. Both man and bud are reaped early.

So it is, friend, for you and me.”

.

At the peal of this mournful sentence, the wind died and ceased its violence,

leaving only the still silence of quiet death and finality.

“But, come now, the time draws near, when we both must be away from here.”

So spake this pale and midnight seer. Hand on my shoulder, he smiled sadly.

His machine face of bone was sincere, as he paused for a time, then said ”Sadly,

No one can deny destiny.”

.

From the ground, the darkness seeped, showing all that the nether keeps:

Stillness to make the forest weep and the sultry call of destiny.

I saw the fiends; the devils sept, and where the evil souls are kept.

I saw, too, the souls that wept, cold and alone for eternity:

Wept for a life they can’t forget, and lovers left for eternity.

I saw the fate that waits for me.

.

I bowed my head in acceptance and muttered a final repentance.

But there is no forgiveness, only that fated eternity,

For which each of us is ever bound. The peace of our midnight surrounds

Was broken only by the soft sound of my weeping amidst the trees.

Lost in the dark, my soul unwound from that wind swept place amidst the trees,

Dead so young, why me? Why me?