Icy chills crawl up your spine,
bony fingers wrap themselves around your still-beating heart.
Gasping,
you shiver from the iciness that now has your soul.
Taken from this world,
where do you go from here?
It's up to the reaper,
he decides your fate.
In his long black cloak,
he leads you where he will.
A skeletal face,
shows no emotion.
With a scythe,
he points the direction.
He takes his time,
makes you more nervous.
He utters not a word,
as you're taken away.
Where will you end up?
The reaper only knows.
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