The Reaper Grim

an archaically written creepy poem

Twas only a blink
 And nothing more
The thing I saw
At my front door

Twas more I think
Something dark as ink
That made the sound
At my front door

Peered through the slit
Of parted shade
Saw none of it
So then I made

To rattle loose
Both chain and lock
And peep through
Doorjamb crack

Saw naught upon
In the deep dark yawn
Yet still I cringed
Away and back

For I heard the toll
Of churchyard bells
I smelled the fetid
Smell of hell

The shuffling steps
Upon the stoop
A ragged breathing… then silence!
…nothing more.

Then my heart took wing
When that spectral thing
Oozed straightaway through my
Oaken door

And in that blink
Stole my soul…I think
Just that…
and nothing more

Author's Note

It's written in an intentionally old fashion fashion