Ah, yes, why not contribute to this fandom? I've got time to waste and talentless poesia to share.
Crimson.
My blade rips through skin,
I can feel it run through the thin material,
Leeching poison into the enemy's blood.
I whip around to slash my sword through something else,
And blood paints the ground we stand upon.
I've become accustomed to this feeling
And to the warm redness splattering my face.
I cannot be saved.
I cannot be redeemed.
My world is soaked in
Crimson.
Crimson.
Landing like a lion after taking a leap,
I regain the balance I hardly lost as I rise,
Narrowed golden eyes glinting with determination....
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