Road of blood
Love is hate, life is death, darkness surrounds all living, its until darkness strikes do we realize how dark life is. One walks out into the dark of night to only never be found, each time a heart is broken another body is found out on the cold road with a slit wrist and a large pool of blood is found That we realize this special feeling when blood flows down the hands that they realize that this dark road is the road to end all. I live my life looking for that road. May water flow once again with the color of blood
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Comments about this poem (Road of blood by william murray )
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