Blood Moon

The shimmering rays of the moon,

Falling on the mountain tops.

The closing shutters,

Of the nearby shops.

The whispering sounds,

Of turning the door knobs.

The noise of the firing bullets,

Around our house.

The sudden calmness all around,

The sudden silence of plosive shouts,

The thuds of falling bodies,

Which will unite with the soaked soil.

Soaked with the blood of the innocent,

The last gasp of breath turned faint.

The bright and shining moon,

Turning to blood red,

As the last of the sinless,

Sink into the ground.

Their eyes are covered with gore,

As their voices fade.