Bloodland - Poem by Kaitlyn Byington
As this charred land stands still,
My feet travel near a river of blood,
The pain and depression, make me kill,
These hands that carry my sword, crusted of mud.
Near my hand, a little child plays,
Her time most near,
The Father Time makes everone pay,
The price of life, is which we fear.
As the finishing battle is won,
My last shot I take,
I am now the only one,
The last one I give no mistake.
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