Bath Of Blood Poem by Brendon Secrist
Bath Of Blood
From the ashes,
We arise,
Anger growing,
Blood flowing.
Our blades spill,
Our enemies blood,
A scream and
A cry of pain,
The last sane thing that they can say.
Curses flowing,
Pools forming,
A bath of blood,
Is all that remains,
Of our once whole enemies.
Friday, November 14, 2008
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I would like to translate this poem
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11/12/2025 7:33:03 PM # 1.0.0
what is this poem about... would you tell me? ?