The Man With The Scythe

Towards the pale blue dot
He set his course,
Traversing across galaxies
He reached at last, of course.

Shocked he was
To see the blue turned into brown,
Sadly he wondered
What happened to his King’s crown?

Thus pondering what went wrong
Down he came,
Dejected he was to see the people
Play the blame game.

How fortunate His Majesty’s subjects were,
The Grim Reaper had admired,
Yet hate, despair and jealousy
Was all that they had gathered.

Looting the land
And polluting the seas,
Apocalypse was in waiting
This he could clearly see.

Gathering his paraphernalia
And his scythe,
The old man ascended
Utterly unhappy and with a sigh.

Graimcingly he looked down
Only to see a big dead hole,
Prompting him to search for a place
Where people had not lost their soul.

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A Silent Spectator

In this journey of life, keep your eyes on the wonderful backgrounds. They pass by only once and if you are busy tredding on that worn road, then they are lost forever.

3 thoughts on “The Man With The Scythe”

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