Tag, you're it. The grim reapers way

21/01/2025
Tag,
You're It: The Grim Reaper's Way

The Grim Reaper,
he's around each day,
Taking life's essence,
in a shadow's way.
Moving through the world,
in the night or the day,
Playing 'tag,
you're it,'
he'll catch you anyway.

You don't have to be sleeping,
or curled up tight,
He'll come for you,
whether day or night.
His game of tag is filled with fright,
From the living world,
he'll take your light.

He stalks the dying,
like a shadow in the street,
Silent and patient,
on a deadly beat.
Loving the chase,
with a twisted delight,
Another soul taken,
in the pale moonlight.

Hollow eyes,
with a skeletal grin,
Bony fingers reaching out from within.
A dark cloak shrouds his ghostly form,
The face of death,
so cold and forlorn.

When you're caught,
it's off to the underworld,
No heaven or hell,
just shadows swirled.
A place where history's dead do dwell,
In the darkness,
with no light to quell.

In the darkest corners,
he lies in wait,
Guided by fate,
his purpose innate.
With each final breath,
his tally grows,
In the silent abyss,
life's light goes.

Each life he takes,
another soul,
Into the shadows,
where stories roll.
Families weep,
their hearts entwined,
In grief's embrace,
memories bind.

Pain and sorrow,
left behind,
Families shattered,
memories bind.
Friends and comrades,
forever scarred,
War's aftermath,
lives left marred.

You don't have to be sleeping,
or curled up tight,
He'll come for you,
whether day or night.
His game of tag is filled with fright,
From the living world,
he'll take your light.

Only darkness he brings,
no joy or song,
Whether man,
woman,
or child,
he'll drag you along.
If you're about to die,
he'll chase you down,
Till you're defiled,
in his deathly crown.

There's no losing him,
no escape in sight,
The scent of death drives him,
a relentless fight.
In this game of tag,
the Reaper reigns,
A twisted dance,
where life wanes.