Pain is the color of her eyes,
dark blue and full of hate with the world.
It is the color of her hands,
stained red with the promise of death.
It is the color of her fury,
exploding across the world as she screams.
It is the color of her cries,
cracking and breaking the ears
and the hearts
of those closest.
It is the color of her skin,
mottled purple and green from the blows she receives.
And the blows she gives.
It is the colors of her victims,
their mouths agape and bodies turned inside out.
Pain is the color of her soul that was turned into a monster.
YOU ARE READING
When The Blood Ran Black
PoezjaWhen my demon decided it wanted out, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I could only watch as bloodied claws pierced my skin and shadows leaked through my eyes in black teardrops. It wanted out, and I was content to let it roam. >>>&g...
