The Reaper

Indira Reddy
Sep 3, 2018 · 1 min read
werner22brigitte on Pixabay

I’ve rent suckling babes from wailing mothers
succoured the old and infirm with the bliss of nothingness
ripped hearts and minds to shreds
as I stole life from under protective arms
every footstep resounded to banshee screams
as my gift of oblivion was welcomed with curses

and yet I stayed true to my duty, my belief strong

but the eons have worked their soft magic on me,
eroding my belief with every curse,
my skin now weeps with nerves open to the
overpowering stimuli of the world,
every whispered imprecation clanging inside me for eternity

the prospect of rest is not in my horizon
its absence leeches what little is left of me

At times I’ve stationed the blade of my scythe to my neck,
pushed it with all the force I could muster
but it refuses to gift me peace

i wait unfulfilled,
cursed for eternity


This poem was directly inspired by an offline conversation with a friend who was drawing a despondent Death.

Pâro

Collection of poems and stories by Indira Reddy

Indira Reddy

Written by

Endlessly fascinated by how 26 simple symbols can say so much…

Pâro

Pâro

Collection of poems and stories by Indira Reddy

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