He calls himself The Reaver
to anyone that asks,
gleaning twisted pleasure
from all his dirty tasks.
They say he wears a black cloak
and holds a scythe of death,
i've felt him at my shoulder,
the warm stink of his breath.
I've heard him in the twilight,
whispering his lies,
taunting me and nagging
at the weakened me inside.
He says that he will take me,
regardless of my will
but just for now i'm running,
and  living off the thrill.

◄ my attempt at jackie hagans challenge thingy

From organism to organasm ►


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Andy N

Mon 7th Jun 2010 08:19

i didn't even spot in rhymed until about the third read! lol

nice stuff, kath otherwise.. you are certainly expanding your writing skills at the mo!

keep em coming! x

<Deleted User> (7073)

Sun 6th Jun 2010 18:53

It is refreshing to read a piece that actually rhymes, I enjoyed this, the idea that you can cheat death even for just a little bit ;-)

Rachel Bond

Sat 5th Jun 2010 00:46

like this kath, consider me a fan...reminds me of one of mine, Death..where did you get the name reaverman?

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