Writing Innocent_angel's Poetry [M-V]

[Guest Innocent_angel]

[CENTER][FONT=Century Gothic]Blood


Blood,
red and gleaming
against the silver
of the blade
in my hand

Dried on my skin
evidence of a battle
won?
or lost?
Matters not.

I stand alone
on the field
the screams of
the dying
fill my ears
my eyes
filled with
the sight of blood
.
An acrid stench fills
my nose
blood and burning
flesh.
Enemies
dying on pyres
sacrificed to their god.

The blade falls
limp from my hands
I stagger
away
from the carnage
the death
and
destruction
I have wreaked

I fall upon soft earth
clean from blood.
Dirt
fresh
with the scent of life
and I scream

hollow
and loud
I yell
to the sky
my anger
and pain.

I do not
meant to kill.
But I will.
I am a warrior
I am the horseman
I stalk the living
forever.
Hunting.
The battle forever
goes on.


I am death. [/CENTER][/FONT]