Grim
There once was a time in which I lived, just to get ahead, I didn't care about them
but once I finally reached the end, I find my riches all gone, I was pronounced dead.
So I learned to seperate the living from the dying, survival the force that kept me from
starving.
We first come in are told of an end, distrought with the truth we see inevitably grim, this reaper had pride,
he had truth in his eyes, but it was all just a part of some fancy disquise.
For without all the lives which he forcefully took he would be a blank page in an unwritten book.
So I'll take the blank books and insert my copies, my copies once gone now make up his army,
to make the grim grin with his hands full of bodies.
But through to the end he made not a friend so hate and anarchy are his next of kin,
all of my copies now turn on him for they are my copies my light shines within.