Grim Reaper by Nikita Jayaprakash Grim reaper, grim reaper, He had such a sly, innocent entrance, I should’ve seen the darkness in his presence. He came in, asking for a peaceful truce, so I put away my knife and took a breathe, It was the one that I would have never guessed, The one who ran his lithe fingers through my black tresses, Seemingly getting out the stubborn knots and tangles, But truly trying to get a better grip, my neck at a more vulnerable angle, Oh, how I wished that I kept my hand on the blade’s handle. Grim reaper of dreams, With truth as his scythe, Muttering sarcasm but I know what’s implied. He pushes me down even though I’ve already tripped, My pleas lost as soon as they reach my lips, But he begs me to stay aboard a sinking ship, He throws me underwater, wondering why I don’t take a breath, He drags me down, deeper and deeper, knowing I can’t take the depth, His whispered apologies barely audible, like his sincerity is a secret. Grim reaper of perseverance, With failure as his scythe, Unable to convince me of anything but lies. During the time of surrender, he’ll leave me in the trenches, If victory comes, he’ll claim that I never left the benches, Ignorant of his repercussions and consequences, In battle, he shot me with the gun but missed me by an inch, He swore he didn’t want to, but I saw, he didn’t even flinch, Ignorant of the gunpowder on his hands and my pained wince. Grim reaper of hope, With reality as his scythe, Yet he has no rules nor morals to abide. I want to get him back, hunt the hunter, kill the killer, But given the chance, I wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger, My hatred is great, but the expectance of guilt is bigger, He was never there for me, he pushed me on the wrong path, He was the illusion of friendship, a trust fall with no catch, He rises completely unscathed from the bloodbath. Grim reaper of innocence, With cruelty as his scythe, Until only my heartbeat can remind me that I’m still alive. He’s always there surrounded in a shroud of lies, Only it’s too late now that I’ve looked past his disguise. I was too susceptible to the gift that was truly a bribe, Broken by the betrayal of my most trusted ally, Now, every stranger I meet, I think they hold a scythe, Every interaction, I expect manipulation and lies. Grim reaper, grim reaper, Your reputation will never precede you, Because even if you admitted your crimes, no one would believe you.
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Nikita Jayaprakash is a high school senior, and current Teen Poet Laureate of Pleasanton, California, who writes to share the excessive thoughts in her head. She has been writing since she was seven, and she loves every aspect of literature: she reads in her spare time, writes at the most inopportune moments and has a penchant for writing her favorite lines in calligraphy.