Red is not for love, it’s dead.
The awfulness is such a dread.
Blood, the darkest form of red.
It makes me feel oh so dead.
Life gets sucked from within me
Death is thrown deep into me.
I glance down at the floor I stand.
A puddle of blood, not just a strand.
Puddle, bowl, ocean, sea…
Full of blood from you and me.
Myself, I do not wish to torment,
By watching this blood drop to the cement.