March of the Reaper

I wrote this when going through a tough time in my life so I apologise if it isn't up to par.

Knife plunges deep

Straight through the heart

Not a blade of steel

But a blade of thought

Cold thought hacks

And slices and cuts

Cold thought stabs

And society tuts

Blood is pumped 

Throughout each vein

Fuelling the voices 

Inside my brain

Several memories

Remain discarded

Repressed not forgotten

Secrets are guarded

Life is pumped

Throughout each vein

A metaphor for life you ask?

... Pain.

Knife plunges deep

Carving through flesh

The darkness descends

I finally sense the reaper's sweet caress.

-Emerald Badger

Author's Note

Honesty is the best policy