HARVEST OF FEAR

In a repulsive corner of the land
The Reaper sows a loathsome harvest,
Scything everything he encounters
Until all goodness is laid to rest.

A harvest of fear is performed
By this malignant reprobate,
Killing all that's good and decent
In short, everything the Reaper hates.

Stalking through the dales and valleys
Hunting innocents now long asleep,
Slaughtering hundreds and more
Cutting them down like culling sheep.

Killing only the best human beings
Leaving all the miscreants alive,
The Reaper hews the countryside
Making a land where only evil thrives.

Harvesting out all of the goodness
From a land, madness calls its own,
Witches and goblins loudly rejoicing
In a place, only foulness calls home.

The Reaper sows a loathsome harvest
Across a corner of this repugnant land,
Sowing seeds that flower into horrors
In earth beneath the blood-red sand.

A harvest of fear soon will follow
As he plunders the best human lives,
Slaughtering all that's good and descent
Until nothing worthwhile can survive.

THE END
© Copyright 2022 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia