The Reaping Of A Soul Poem by Demon Queen

Flames begin burning
as a figure approaches
clothed in black
and smelling of death.

He bends down close
and you smell his breath
as it slowly
strangles you.

His eyes, barely visible
beneath his black hood,
are smiling demonically
as nothing but holes in the skull.

Blood drips slowly
off fang-like teeth
sizzling and corroding
everything it touches.

His hand reaches out
and gently touches
where, if you had one,
your heart would be.

He reaches in
and touches the spot
slowly stopping
your clock of life.

He pulls out his hand
and a faint glowing starts
as the essence of life
is ripped from the body.

As your eyes close slowly
your once healthy body
slowly
dies.

As you reopen your eyes
and look down
tears start falling
evaporating in mid fall.

'Do not cry'
the figure says.
'For if you did not want to die
you shouldn't have gone
and
killed
yourself.'