Poem: The Stain

They played with blood,

an innocent blood.

Very pure and fresh,

but then a prey.

They spilled and laughed,

it stained so deep.

They never knew,

the stain would stick.

 

 

They walked around,

with stains around.

They overlooked,

but the stain stared.

This time around,

the stain screamed.

They closed their ears,

but Nemesis heard.

 

They tried a lot, but couldn't progress.

They seemed for help, but the stain held.

With no progress, they began to search.

But yet still, the stain was there.

 

A wretched life,

scattered with stains.

They pray for help,

and then it came.

Just when they thought

all was at ease.

The stain showed up and again it shattered.

 

Amend your ways,

they told themselves.

Let's give it up, our wicked ways.

Yes! The right thing,

but then the stain.

It stuck really close,

than they could think.