I am a man of science, logic.
I am a man of rules, ethics.
I am a man of wisdom, experience.
I am a man cursed with dreams.

Waking hours, a living corpse,
Working, writing, whining,
Sleeping hours, a winged wraith
Leaving the world lifeless.

I am Azrael, darkest of jesters,
For me life is just a joke,
I will laugh the last
Until you see me, alone.

Once an angel, now feared.
Too pure a demon, revered.
I am a reaper, slayer, killer.
And yet death eludes me still.

And so hated was I, so reviled,
I cast my scythe into a grey ocean.
And nevermore did people die.
And I was able to love.

And this is where I wake,
To live the life of man.
No more an angel,
No more a fiend.

But around me people suffer.
No respite, no death.
And I was cursed to wonder.
Why did they suffer?

Taking a new name,
Mortal did I become,
I grew old, grew cold.
But I grew wise, and loved.

And I loved a woman,
Her eyes shimmering sapphires.
Her skin soft and tanned.
And her soul beyond compare.

But she grew old. As did I.
And she suffered age.
Her memory died, her body alive.
A fate worse than death.

And I began to see my error.
And now I would have to pay.
For to right the natural order
I would have to slay my love.

But I am a man of ethics,
And I swam deep into the silver.
Retrieved my scythe, my soul,
And held it to her.

As my youth restored,
I held her hand, tears in my eyes.
Watching her life fade,
Her soul forever gone.

And though I know her
Safe and beyond suffering.
A part of me wishes
I had never lived.

And for an eternity I wait
My duty, my purpose and vigil
For the end of time
Where sapphires would greet me.