Seek the reaper

He wrote my life as I write this verse
Cheated me of my rhymes
Filling them with metaphors and similes
So I write my verse with no feelings, no mercy
Breaking the rules: no harm no foul
Who to blame
Blame the writer not the poet

I seek grave posts like they seek dwelling places
I taunt the reaper.. doubt eternity
What’s life if not death unturned
Morbidity – creation- inverted
So I dare death, seek the place of demise
Blame the poet not the writer

Unreal this life is
Untrue the next I feel
Life after, sounds like an endless book
Angels and demons feel like the wind
A slight breeze, a slight touch
Doctrine feels like a speech
The preacher… clothed politician
So I dare the reaper
Blame the writer and yes the poet

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