Sing a song of blood

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14/11/2016 An abstract piece, written for the feel and colour of the words

This glorious red washes over me,

I bathe in the death of my enemies.

My family marking me,

my friends, my self,

I wear our blood like warpaint,

smeared on my face,

clothing me,

CRIMSON,

like the costume of an antihero

in a graphic novel.

This song spills from my lips,

flowing over my chin and down my chest.

My mouth is drenched in it,

my rolling tongue swims,

my sharp teeth

painted with this scarlet song.

 

 

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