What is that I see out of the corner of my eye
Dressed in black and a scythe he was carrying
Could this be? I dared not think, the one they called the Reaper
And if it was did he pick me or was he just passing
I could feel the sweat run down my back as fear gripped tightly
Was much too young to leave this world, the great beyond be seeing
But there he stood so quietly, not a word from him was spoken
Ever so slowly his head did turn, his blazing eyes bored through me
I must admit that by this time I was shaking rather badly
This was made so much worse when slowly he glided towards me
As he lifted his arm the sleeve fell back, a bony finger pointed
'Thomas Roberts,' from beneath the hood spoke deathly voice, 'it is time'
My knees trembled, my heart throbbed and tears ran down my face
'Is there nothing I can do to gain more time?' I begged unashamedly
Last thing I heard as life fled me was a hollow booming laugh
'When I come, your time is up, no bargains shall we strike.'