Cronos (The Reaper)

I wait round corners where the air is still,
in darkened alleys wet with winter snow,
the places only fools and dreamers go.
You will not see me, but will feel my chill
on exposed places where the ice will spill
and with each prickle you will surely know
that, soon, the ancient blizzard wind will blow
and bring the reaper with it for the kill.
For I am called from somewhere in the past
to put an end to all that you have been,
a mercy killing for this ancient life.
The sinless child is born to us at last,
the future cuts its cord with hopeful knife
and once more blunts the sharp edge of my scythe.