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Fighting the Reaper
I walk  this world alone,
 Looking for a place to call my home.
 Demon’s shadows loom over my path,
 Wanting me to feel their wrath.
 Tears of blood and sweat stream down my cheeks,
 Upon this trail I run death reeks.
 The night flies high over my head,
 The moon is dyed a crimson red.
 Nightmares cling to my clothes and skin,
 Screaming that I cannot escape my sin.
 The Reaper’s scythe glints in the moon lit light,
 To stay alive it is clear I must fight.
 I climb the steep jagged cliffs of death,
 I gasp and choke for precious breath.
 Only to find when I reach the top,
 A sight that makes my heart stop.
 A body laying white and limp under the Reaper’s cloak,
 In its own blood it did soak.
 It was my body, I was already dead.

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