ArrowSplitter
@arrowsplitter
The reaper stood, tall and proud, Never missing a rainy cloud, To reap the field that God did sow, To collect the souls that once did glow, To lay them into a wicker basket, And lock them safe inside the casket, Until the heavenly sunrise shines Onto their ghostly, shivering spines, Then God whispers, "All are mine!" -By Yours Truly
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