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scythe
October 25, 2023
My shadow is not my own
It claws its way out of my soul
Hovers slightly behind me
Waiting to pounce on its prey
It has followed me from birth,
The fear of death
Creeping up slowly
Pretending it knows me
The scythe it holds slashes through me
And it takes control of my body
I become a bystander to my own life
And now,
I hold the scythe.
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I wrote this based on a prompt I found online, talking about the Grim Reaper