Nightblood

Red

blood

Turns,

dead and black,

dripping from my cuts

Pulses behind inky bruises,

harbored like trophies

Pumps through my life-force,

searing iron shrapnels 

Purifying my soul,

of afflictions good and kind

Pricking my mind,

forging weapons and fighting the war

 

 

 

 

Comments

upnorthdavid

Glad you posted this piece, so needed. Are you willing to tag it? Thanks!

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