To Take a Soul

Not a sword
Coated in viscous blood
But a feather dipped
With lukewarm oil
And pressed to breezy winds
Instead
Of raging gales
And a snap –
No, a blink…
A breath,
A pause –
And silence persists
As the wool comes free
From its thornless bush
And black and white,
The Reapers sigh,
And snap shut
A little black book.

A/N: If you don't recognise the connotation, the wool is representative of the soul and the thornless bush means it came easily. In some religions, the wool being torn from thorny bushes is analogous to how easily the soul departs from this world. So the more thorns, the more "attached" to this world the soul is, and therefore the harder the death.