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Red blood drips down,

Onto the dirt.

Upon the bodies and torn,

Stomachs and slit throats,

Lay many flies,

Hungry for death.

Around town,

Every person is alert.

People go to graves to mourn,

While in thick coats,

To keep dry from the rain that tries,

To make the air cold and every breath,

Short and uneasy.

Each bleeding wound,

And every broken bone,

Is taken care,

Of the best as they can.

Bones lay scattered around,

Where guts lay making people queasy.

Most were left not intuned,

With themselves and alone,

When the evil came to share,

A meal of flesh and blood that ran,

Down their throats without a sound.

Sweat from fear,

And the ferral,

Or wild approach,

Of a mencaing thing,

That causes the worst fate,

That is possible.

To steer,

Away to a sterile,

Safe place to coach,

The untamed ring,

Of emotions such as hate.

It is nearly impossible,

To evade the evil from the dark.

As the night,

Fades so do,

The evil being replaced by the day.

Blood still wet,

And seeping deeper,

Into the ground leaving a mark,

Of the dying light,

Of life that is no longer going through.

Many regrets and debts to pay,

That just let,

The pain fall steeper.