In shadows deep, where secrets lie,
A classroom dark, 'neath somber sky.
Where echoes whisper, and silence reaps,
Resides a tale of lessons steeped.
In John Skelton's voice, I shall unfold,
A story of young souls, brave and bold.
The Reaper's Lesson, a deadly art,
Taught by a teacher, torn apart.
Korosensei, the enigmatic guide,
With smile adorned, he could not hide,
An octopus form, both strange and strange,
But wisdom flowed, an endless range.
His pupils, known as Class 3-E,
Outcasts and rebels, yet yearning to see,
A brighter future, through darkness' gloom,
They embraced their fate, in this strange classroom.
Assassination, their peculiar task,
To end their teacher's life, a formidable ask.
But in this classroom, death took flight,
For life's true lessons, came to light.
In each encounter, a chance to learn,
From failures made, they would discern,
The essence of growth, resilience's grace,
Embracing challenges, at a steady pace.
The Reaper's Lesson, beyond just death,
Revolved around friendship, every breath.
They grew as a family, bound by strife,
A symphony of unity, woven for life.
With every sunset, the clock did tick,
The day approached, when lessons would stick.
Would they complete their sacred vow,
Or find a path that'd allow them to bow?
In John Skelton's voice, this tale I weave,
Of courage, sacrifice, and how to believe,
That in the face of darkness, hope shall rise,
For those who seek truth, beyond the skies.
So let us ponder this strange classroom,
Where the Reaper taught, and life did bloom.
A testament to bonds that never sever,
In assassination's shadow, they found forever.