Blood pouring down

like a thunderstorm

the smell of earth

replaced by

the strong smell

of iron

and salt

Blood pouring down

all innocence bathed

washed away

replaced with an evil

a desire of murder

                of suicide

                of death

thoughts plagued by fear

nothing on this Earth is ever copacetic

nor will it ever be


the murders of significant others,

                            family members,


Blood shed is rampant.

Blood pouring down

like a thunderstorm.

When will it stop?



The Masked Poet

I am really into this poem its really good, I also like the darkness in this poem

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