Author's Notes: Ha, a poem dedicated to the Turks. How sweet is that? The first part is about Vincent and his form of Chaos, and the second part is about a Turk on the job and what their work does to people (if you can guess which Turk the one with smiling eyes is I will give you a cookie). The final part is about how people feel when they are near Turks, or when one of their loved ones was the job.
This was written as a ten minute challenge poem when working on the literary magazine at my school. I won the competition, which might not be good, yeah? So, read and review or not. Well, read obviously...
Oh, and the title is obviously dedicated to Reno and Rude, who are the Turks with sunglasses.
of crimson and of gray,
Holding to the soundless day.
Tears of silver and of blue,
Streaming at the death of you.
Hopes dashed to ebony powder,
As cries of sorrow start and grow louder.
They look on in the icy rain,
At the darkest form of human bane.
Gun held in shaky hands,
Fearful sight throughout sunlit lands.
Prayers come in pain and tears,
While hearts all echo ancient fears.
Shades of crimson and of gray,
Tears of silver mark the day.
Hearts lay broken, unable to mend,
As hopes find little to do but bend.
Strangers shout and friends scream,
All feels like a horrid dream.
Wondering why this life was spent,
Wondering just what the gunner meant.
Suit clad killer with smiling eyes,
Says he paid for all the lies.
And dearest friend to all has seen,
The price of lies and what they mean.
Shades of crimson and
Shatter now in the lovely day.
The sun is gone and hope as fled,
In the silence all is said.
Love proves to be once more in vain,
Humanity to be less than sane
Death takes hold of each last one,
Just as with their friend it has done.
They cry now in crimson spheres,
And in each drop is their fears.
Life has lost to the bitter night,
It barely even put up a fight.