By GoldenFlame

The pure white snow,

Red clashes on freshly fallen frost.

Nothing stops the flow

As blue eyes fill with tears.

A crushed spirit

Cries for all.

Those who hear it,

Feel pity for the fallen soul.

When things go wrong,

They remember the war,

Lasting in their hearts so long,

Never, in eternity, forgotten.

The fallen angel lies on the snow,

Red dying the white.

The soldier lies low,

Watching his darkened, dying soul…

~*Owari*~

A/N: Take a guess who this is for!! Sorry if you thought this poem was disturbing, I did tell you I was sick,

right? Questions, comments, flames, disturbances? You should know the drill.

Review or e-mail me at or goldenflame_trowaz_.