Bloody War

Hands placed on a unclean slate. Clans faced off and deaths happening at a unreal rate.
Bodies lay quietly upon the ground, shoddy warn down knives all around.

A pool of blood surrounded me. A fool I was, oh how I greatly misjudged.
Laboured breathing must have made me look like I was sleeping. 

If only the blood hadn't soaked my clothing.
If only the flood of armies would just stop coming.
 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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