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I am me, Me is I. I express myself through writing and through my actions but not my words. I think with my heart but sometimes my brain takes over. I dream, I feel, I breathe, I love, I think. With trust comes my respect but break it once and you will spends years maybe your life rebuilding it and it will never, ever under any circumstances be completely regained.

Friday, April 22, 2011


So I write a little poetry. It helps me vent...but I was browsing my Facebook notes and came across one of my favourite poems that I wrote a while back. It's dark but I thought you guys might like to read it anyhoo.

The Reaper Smiles

Dreary, cold, discoloured is this night.
Shadows of the trees that loom around her,
Creation of unholy and demonic creatures it creates.
Insanity wrecks this world
Of the children of the night, the underworlders,
Those of demonic blood with soul of pure hatred.
The ruler over them,
For he smiles over each and everyone of them.
Those who dare look at him,
Wondering what exactly lurks under that cloak,
Hiding his ivory coloured bones and his hollow eyes.
Clutching his scyth, four age withered fingers and a thumb.
The reaper looks over the world as if it was his own,
His game, his job.
Ending the life of those around, controlling.
Shivering uncontrollably, he pulls her close,
Wraping his free bony, cloaked arm over her.
Leaning down, he wispers,
"This world you see, the last time you ever will,
At least not in your living body. Your soul shall walk this earth,
wreaking havoc, destroying the minds and perishing all those who dare cross your way.
This is you future, your eternal undead life"
Turning for the last time she ever will, he smiles at her.
The look of dead. Collapses.
Laying limp by his feet, scyth between her rib cage,
He rumbles with laughter,
So deep, so sinister that the dead of the night
Sends howls and cries of the underworld over the ash ridden city.
Smiling again he steps over her, softly he murmers,
"Come, my child, let your soul join the many that roams this earth,
Do my bidding and work for me at you own will.
Scream to me the names of those you long so much for revenge."
"Yes my master" is all she could say,
The world now, she finally sees clearly,
Her targets are you who keep this world at its purest of evil.
Lets not see the reapers smile for ourselves, unless like she,
Who does not fear the reaper, but works for him at her own will.

Beth xx

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