Blood Poem by Thomas Ware

Sword slashes,
Makes gashes,
Blood gushes,
Light flashes.

Silent, deadly,
Dark assassins,
In the night,
Fighting with passion.

Making their way through the dusty alleys,
Killing as they go, trying to rally,
All the long forgotten brothers,
Of the night,
Who killed their mothers.

There is no light, no shelter, solace,
Just slaughter, blood and darkness flawless.

Dressed in black but still bleed red,
Though wed in blood they are not dead,
Though twisted still have human heads,
Though with blackened hearts, they still bleed red.

Another innocent man goes down,
If all was judged, they all would drown,
In the tears that they have caused,
Just passing through.

More blood is on the wall,
A red stain that doesn't belong,
They don't bother to clean it off,
They know they'll never be caught;
They know that anyone who knows,
Will end up black with rot.

They finally reach their destination,
Many, many, red knives later,
An shadowed army hundreds strong.
Who knows what they came here for,
But the journey sure was long.