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Jan 2016
Blood.
Its stains the ground.
With a devils sign.
It has no need for a specified shape.
For the evil to be seen.
Just the splatter,
The pool,
The staining drop.
Of its sickling Scarlett hue.
It paints an un-washable picture.
On all colors that shine bright.
That is why the chilling color of black.
Is what I chose.
No evil can be seen,
When contrasted together.
Black is an invincible shade.
To to the devils touch.
For seen as blood.
Written by
WiltingMoon
408
   PoetryJournal
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