The Reaper

Who stalks the night, the void, the dark?
Who brands all with the evil mark?
Who rides along the cold wind's zeith?
Who can it be? None else but death.

All throughout the lands it stalks,
Taking souls where'er it walks
From its maw will no one save,
Those it pulls into the grave.

Sleeping child, traveling man,
None can flee the cold dark hand.
Lowly farmer, noble lord
All will fall to death's black sword.

Through the battles death's cloud rolls,
Spilling blood, consuming souls.
The ax, the blade, the shaft, the bill,
All will serve for death's cruel will.

Taking ones held very dear,
It haunts the living with the fear.
The scent of death hangs on the air,
Sensing it, all will despair.

Who can escape what death will send?
Who can avoid the dreadful end?
None of the living will death miss,
Their fate will be in the abyss.

Who stalks the night, the void, the dark?
Who brands all with the evil mark?
Who rides along the cold wind's zeith?
Who can it be? None else but death.