so i looked and saw but did not see wat i expected...

it was wierd in fact that i saw not wat i was told i would see...

but, rather, i saw wat my soul hoped not to see...

a hooded figure, a sickle and a bony smile...

wat pain he must've endured...wat beauty...

a sinister object but yet such sorrow emerges from his wicked face...

encompassed by shadow he comes and does his duty...

no remorse... because that is a weakness within itself...

and a weakness within itself is a weakness within one's self...

thus...he must be strong and endure his feelings...

but wat about his victim's? wat did they do?...

i don't believe such a number of casulties has to do wit a chosen place and time...

or is it fate, are such things determined before we even breath?...

are we mere pawns to be played wit until tha reaper comes?...

such is a meaning of life i never thought existed...

but if it does...when will it be my turn?...

when will i die...when will tha reaper come for me?...

i do not know...somebody help me figure the question of life...

before tha beautiful, tha sinister, THA DARKNESS of tha hooded one...

claims another mark for his duty...







This is dedicated to a kid at my school who was shot on a bus stop...he died in tha hospital over tha weekend...may he rest his soul as he is finally free...

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