Why is my crown so garish,

With spikes and thorns and so,

My face rotting and disintegrating,

My eyes the colour of blood.

Why am I dressed in capes,

And long gowns kissing the floor,

The grey faded and old,

A rusty scythe in my clutches.

Just a girl in jeans,

My sweatshirt with ridiculous text,

Eyes the colour of coffee,

A crown that keeps falling off my head.

Why do you love Life so much,

And hate me so much,

After all, I’m her twin,

But my job is taking lives…

~thryaksha