Bloody War
Hands placed on a unclean slate. Clans faced off and deaths happening at a unreal rate.
Bodies lay quietly upon the ground, shoddy warn down knives all around.
A pool of blood surrounded me. A fool I was, oh how I greatly misjudged.
Laboured breathing must have made me look like I was sleeping.
If only the blood hadn't soaked my clothing.
If only the flood of armies would just stop coming.
This poem is about:
Our world