This poem is originally a short story, Crimson (Add this to basic FFN URL: s/13236863/1/Crimson), written by Salazar Marvolo, who let me make it into a poem. I've tried keeping as much of the original text as I could. I feel it isn't as conclusive as the original, but... I still like the last line, so.

(Don't hesitate to check out the original, as well as Sal's profile page BTW)

It's my first time doing this, and it was pretty fun and certainly a new experience ^^

Pre-note: This is situated during the TYBW Arc.

NOTE: For the rhythm to make sense on the whole poem, one has to pronounce 'Yhwach' as 'Juha Bach'. I know it doesn't quite make sense said like that, but it still sounds better ^^;

"For colour is one of the most rapturous truths that can be revealed to man." - Harold Speed


The blood was dripping down his face
And to the floor in slow motion
Drenching the ground in deep crimson
His blade singing with deadly grace

The metallic taste on his tongue
Made his head spin and stomach turn
He licked his lips, knowing he'd earn
A headache for it before long

The blood tasted strongly of death
And of life, of charcoal and tears
His sword was heavy with the fears
The dead had. He drew in a breath

They had clashed their bows to his own
Crimson blade. Just how many times
Had it sliced through flesh, cut through bone
Sawed at muscle and punished crimes

By doing just like them? His grip
Became unsteady as he tried
To make himself out in the tide
Of blood-red spread out like a rip

On the steel surface of his blade.
All he got was a glimpse of eyes
That held darkness from all the cries
Of deaths upon deaths, lives that fade

Into nothingness. So much red
Tainting the clothing of his foes
So many petals of a rose
Now scattered and heavy as lead

He gripped his sword like a lifeline
Remember that kill or be killed
Is a curse also for the skilled
Stolen bottle is poisoned wine

Remember how many a soul
Had had the light torn from their eyes
Had seen their very last sunrise
Had gone from being flame to being coal

He looked around for some last foe
But found none, which was no surprise
He killed many who addressed cries
The Him they had sworn to follow

This God that they called Yhwach

Of whom they were the seraphim
For there was no escape from him
And there was no escape from Her
Or their Bankai and its power

He reached out and caressed his sword
For together they were no less
Than him and his Crimson Princess
Who were the blood's lady and lord

He stood up straight upon carnage
A field of lilies caught by storm
The laying corpses were still warm
With loyalty, faith and courage

He bought blood to his face and smeared
Some all over his mouth and chin
Lapping at it with the starved grin
Wolves have when they know they are feared

The laughter rolling off his tongue
Like madness from his crimson lips
Sliced through the silence that Death grips
Resounding like a deadly song

Hope you liked it! I like Crimson both as a story and poem, I think. Both are a little different, but maybe that's what's interesting about it?

Still regret a tiny bit not having managed to fit in as much Urahara-Benihime complicity as the original contained, but I'll get over it ^^;