Bloodstains

Skins are scraping all over his flesh smoothly. Flows of blood are running through his body. His arms are flipped like a scrambled paper, Crowd is rushing like a powdered pepper. His face touches in a gray dusty ground, Everyone screams and makes a saddest sound. Tears are running on my mom’s face, Death is mysterious as it goes someone’s pace. I remember how he really looks like, Pieces of brains are thrown away from his motorbike. His death is the worst thing that I’ve ever known. I can’t stand why his bloody death is so unknown. I almost faint in his bloodiest situation, It frightens and heightens my weakest tension. Bloodstains are obvious on his shirt, His death is noxious and incredibly dirt.