Touch of Blood

Spoils of war met with the remembrance of blood spilled.

Splattering across the ground of your mind so you no longer keep centered.

Mind is clouded but you remain trying to brush against the green pastures.

Shadows trying to keep the innocence from appearing white.

The storms engage the peace you try to uphold.

But we are human, yes we’re human.

Our emotions and frailty are seen by the touch of blood.

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