Red.

The redness.
The darkness.
It fell and splattered-
to kill. To die.

 Hot sticky liquid stains the unknown for eternity.
Everywhere it will mark.
When it leaves...
you will feel the company of death.
It left remains of the dead.
Yet we keep it close to us.
Always.

They don't know the destruction and mess they make.
Will it stop leaking?
Through the cracks yet to be healed.
It still remains.
Always remains.
The debris and shrapnel.
Littered throughout the land.

Remaining to creep.
Remaining to remember.
Remaining to honor.

Ayleigh Loomes