Gatekeeper of the underworld,
whose body hides under a cloak,
introduce yourself as you get hurled,
Lying in wait for your next victim to croak,
even though it might not be their time,
No mercy for those cast in molten mercury,
souls drenched in primordial slime every being always spoken to accusatorly.

Tall hooded demon brandishing a Scythe,
I come to question your path,
and witness he who wields the stick and knife,
grim is your name,
is as grim as your game,
Your other alias is death,
syncs nicely with your ability,
lying while dying,
you thieve our precious breath,
or over time with quickening agility.

You may be the grim reaper,
that in itself is anxiety provoking,
but I choose to climb a mountain that's steeper,
I seen you but you ran away because another is choking