Confessions of the Grim Reaper

As my scythe disengages another The look on my face doesn’t twitch The existence in memories begins The tears dry but leave the trails Like ridges that run infinitely deep To deaf ears are pleas and requests made The heartless rib cage doesn’t bleed As my scythe continues to disengage Panic stricken hearts broken As a maniacal environment sets in Ever imagined a world without me An unnerving confusion of relations galore Losing loved ones the occupational hazard Disengagement of the hated perquisites fine Continuing with this immortal job As my scythe disengages another