Day 13: The reaper

Day 13 - The reaper

see red

Do you think a withered joke, to judge with choke, would find a hold woke? If red is your aftercare green, then withhold my entry, till all is seen, then backflow, a greetings bane, in hell, I will sow a seed, and no other grain. I will sow a seed in red in fame, and joke upon this vessel tame, and rid the flies, the vessel reaped, the grim is hear, to collect a sever treat. You think to offer hands sown wide, yet tilled along, a corridor snide, the sneer, in flown missions taming gear, what choke, a vessel in greetings tear? Drop the blood, the pool my tide, I have a working ready, in a child hid snide, and with an arm outreach as cane, I will open a vision, as black as night, finding with his mission breach, the eye to till, yet never teach. Do not wave a midnight sign, I have visions in blood, to one drop high, and tilled my eye, to angels fame, and with a swipe to ongoing snide, I will drop the tear, in death a tide. On the working the hand so clear, a touch to find, I never sought to clear, and without my hand stuck to cane. I will pull the vision, that never came. A frozen drifting binding start, to look with woe, yet seal privacy cart, and with the left the seal so graized, is it him, or filter haze? A drop to find, the mission, safety creeping tailoring fun, that stolen mirth has no care, a drop of blood, is a thorn to stare, and with the ember drifted find, what is lost, but uplook bind. The soul to see in lessons be, and all lessons captured, in eternity, my knee? Find at once, the reaper, shroud, I have tilled eternity, for a lesson mine foretold, and with the skeleton hand thrown crop, the drop of blood, the closed fist, the reaper non-stop. Until the mission foretold scorn, I will hold my soul, for eternity stone, and rid this country of a blight, non-stop fight, a soul crop light.