Reapers Delight

Dearest Reaper

Your peepers look. Worse for wear.

Seen as an affront. Am I.

To you? I question. Why?

While you have not. And blindly serve without a thought. The instiller. Of the I’ll swill confounding. I whom it’s attributed.

Am I not...Honest?

I’n the least if need be?

Do agree we. To some juxtaposition?

Believe who? Him? Or his image?

I guess you could call this a solitary scrimmage.

My candor. (The “Lit” at which your peering) Alone. Deserves possibly.

A return to... Not.

From the. Naught.

Body list.

A place run afoul. Fraught with haughtiness.

For I’m just the pot. Where’s the kettle in all of this?

My plea.

A not thoughtless beast. Conceit. I pre-empt animal. So much of my crimes. Designed intelligent. And thanks to you. Intangible.

I’m the one you had in mind. After all. A fine young cannibal. So Judge & Jury. Would you now execute?

I who is tangible.

You.