Red Daisies
The blood of his opponent dripped like rain.
He looks at the dead body; all the same.
He killed so many,
so many dead.
He looks around
at the daisy meadow,
such a beautiful place like this
How could a murder take place?
He picks at a blood stained daisy
wondering, just wondering.
Could he have been this red daisy,
forced to carry the blood of another?
He leaves the body with the blood stained flower.
“Yes,” he answers, “I carry the blood of me and my enemies.
“I carry the blood of vampires.”
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