The fourth poem in a series of darker poems that I call “The Scarlet Poems”.

I am the warrior.
The scarlet clad.
Blood thirsty vengance
Of deaths dark border
Here I am.
The sential watcher.
Your eternal reminder.
What you once had.
Past felt.
Dreams unreached.
By my smiting hand
Yell ye mortal.
Scream into my raging tide.
Your soul it cringes.
Back it creeps.
To evade my unholy light.
Run from me,
O wee mortal man.
Run thy soul through,
Dust and ash.
On I come.
Silent death.
Match you stride for stride.
In the end you can never run too fast.
I clasp thy neck,
And bend thee back,
To fill this gnawing hunger.
For I am:
The Father.
The soul eater.
Sanguine death.
Dark master to the
Corupted Harlot.
Scarlet.

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