Colors

Schwartz : Schuldig
By: Tea
I decided to do a series of poems. This one is Schuldig talking to Youji.

Words, they strike out as hard as fists sometimes. Even the unspoken ones, the ones that lay just beneath the surface, waiting.

Their words maybe, but your fists, your guns.

Tender hearts and gentle souls would not survive the onslaught.

Lucky for you I’m neither tender or gentle, but then again neither are you; for anyone else.

We grew up far too fast,

We felt the pains.

All we know is pain.

We are Pain,

And Sorrow,

And Guilt,

And Sin.

We have poison eyes.

Poison eyes from poison blood, death staring out at the world.

Laughing Death,

Green Death.

Do you think they know?

Do you think they see?

Childhood lost with innocence taken.

Sometimes I forget I was ever innocent, do you remember innocence?

Or has it been too long for us?

Too late?

Not even the little ones are safe, none of us are.

We are all damned like ghosts, like Farfarello to Dante’s Inferno.

Fallen Angels with bloody hands hiding in the Darkness.

Will you hide with me?

Do you think they see us?

Can you see them?