deepundergroundpoetry.com

A Glitch in Time

and there he stood
with his low hood
the grey figure in sight
commanding fright
his scythe shines
for unholy harvests

the child was birthed
at the strike of twelve
he smiled eyes closed
there...so much love

Scytheman stood awhile
his face broke in unfamiliar smile
for a while he remembered sunshine
and then he brought the baby
to Glory.
Grace
Written by Grace (Idryad)
Published
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