What am I?

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Circle of life
No place for me
I like to surprise!
Scythe at my side
I can strike at any radius
A foot, a yard, a mile
My fleshless body cloaked, my hard head hooded
Most wear black to salute me
Others a whispery white
But that’s not right, I don’t leave ghosts
When you’re dead, you’re dead!
Circle of life!





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