Crimson Hunter

Crimson hunter hates career.
Can't help cutting ear to ear.

Crimson hunter hates career.
Can't help culling year to year.

Has no car but horse to care
Hueless, colorless, chalky mare

Retrieves souls both foul and fair
From homes, hotels, electric chair

Horrid costume he must wear
He has no choice in underwear

His crimson cloak has a tear
Bones and cartilage exposed to air

Single, lonely, so unfair
A life so gloomy, deathly rare

Homely, comely, who could care
Coming for you, would you dare?

Crimson hunter hates career.
Can't help cutting ear to ear.

Crimson hunter hates career.
Can't help culling year to year.

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Day 6 - Prompt: Reaper Man, but DON'T use the words Death, dead, dying