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The new plane (the reaper)

The grim reapers toil
He carries on in peace and war
Whatever span on this mortal coil
His scythe will cut each flower all
 
Looks to what must be renewed
To carve a swathe
No time to stop or brood
The keeness of his blade
 
He takes us all adult and child  
Futility of the beaten chest
The steep forever flailed
  Black harvester arrests  
 
Some gone in a blink
Some linger on the brink
Come that shadow cast me thinks
And death in tremor sink
 
The good to heavens utopia
Others face dystopia  
My being fear he may appear
That dark cloud may sever near
 
 Some asking questions
 Some believe faiths deception
Nothingness the destination
Just histology persists
Written by slipalong
Published | Edited 9th Jan 2020
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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