Hunting the Reaper - R. E. Bond - Bog

She fled in the dead of night,
Where will she run?
No stone left unturned,
Who will feel my wrath?
A few steps behind her every move,
How many more will suffer?
Her punishment will be severe,
When will she be aware?
With each swing of her scythe,
Why does it make me writhe?

When Selene left us in pursuit of her sister,
She had no idea what she let loose.
Now I hunt her day and night,
Collecting her secrets in plain sight.
She doesn't have long until her time runs out,
It's her fault the four of us have feelings we can't ignore.
If she finds out we've fucked with her plans,
We might just find ourselves dead with her scythe on our foreheads.