Smokey

Angel Of DeathHis Wings are black and covered with red, He likes to sit at the edge of my bed. He carries a scythe; sharp to the tip, Every night he makes a special trip.Angel Of Death
Angel of Death, his cold, dark stare, For most people, that's something they couldn't bare. His cool, dark, black eyes look at me, For a moment they seem to say, "Let me free."
Then I take a closer look, And find him clenching onto a book. I open it to the last page, The Angel seems to be filling with rage.
I look up at him as I see the name "Takuya" appear, But the Angel shows no sign of fe
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