something i wrote in 10 mins the reaper he sits in the shadow of comfort/ deciding diciples and there deed even his dad know he aint start from dirt/providing rifles when at need he murdered his own kind without thinking twice about the position of his mission killer but not to be feared the tricks that fuel his slice not even a magician could envision the huge power he has to be inforceing plots always destroying bonds and divorcing knots never killed but always taking shots poor simple living suddenly vacant spots claims to be knowledgeable of surroundings but never truly speaks words of the wise easily belittled and technology probably confuses him so hope for nerds on the rise when thrown a chance to avail and preserve his obligation he easily decided to just inhale and observe the desperation this information drivin by my facination with transformation my realization is that the population needs education the reaper will soon disapear but until then we must proceed to push no doubt that the end of fear will come the day we concede from bush