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“Stains”StainsBy: InoriWhy? Why must I live with this torment? My innocence? Shattered. My life? Gone. My heart? My heart which Loves life? Torn to shreads. And what of my soul? What has become of that? It is stained In a crimson hue, The color of blood, The color of death. I look at my hands, I see small streams Running down them. Of what, you ask? Is it not obvious? Can you not tell? Blood. My small hands are Stained with blood. And what of my sword? What of my Shield? They are mearly tools For bringing death And splattering more blood My clothes are also stained. But not with blood. Not with death. But with tears. Tears of sadness, Happiness, Longing, And tears of hope. And I realize That for those tears Of hope and longing, I must fight the evil that has stained my soul. For revenge? No. For peace and freedom.
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