‘Death wears many suits’

He creeps, and he lurks; 
the soul-taker lies in wait. 
Like a morbid statistician; 
anxious for your death date. 

Punctual in his appointments:
Death dons a clever disguise. 
When your hourglass runs out,
he pounces before you realize. 

At times its a soldier’s uniform 
or a surgeon’s bloody scrubs. 
In all, Death wears many suits;
shuffled like the ace of clubs.

He takes great pride in his work;
swooping down to seize your life.
An artist employs many methods;
whether by bullet, poison or knife. 

The reaper always slithers near;
deftly camouflaged in the dark.
Your carrion ghoul waits to strike.
In his book he’ll leave your mark. 

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About Bo Bandy

Just a creative soul trapped in a world of cookie-cutter pragmatism...
This entry was posted in Children's Stories, Different Perspectives, Humor, Poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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