I saw a woman stained by red,
solemnly she had bowed her head,
her skin it was pale,
crying she did wail.
Cleaning clothes she strained,
as they were blood stained.
It was mine but with her instead,
heart beating fast shaking with dread.
A horrifying sight to see,
in the night it was a banshee.
I wish I had no warning,
it's my death she was mourning.
YOU ARE READING
my poems
PoetryEach of my poems are their own entity, shaded in different hues and personalities. They are empathetic with many universal themes.
