The Blood Hunters Trail

The souls that are blinded by their

for killing the already half dead, as is.

What must be truth is a lie behind a fallen tree.

Millions of people slaughtered by one

on the fright train of lunacy.



Red flags are waved by time

as the island of death appears.

As the man in black will take away,

the vulnerable pry, while the strong walk with stray.

Why this madness of dark blood not end.



The urge to drink the devil's juice

will soon get him killed but only after another falls.

His devil-like scars are in the shadows

while his blood-shot eyes are always stalking the weak.

The nightmare is behind all locked doors

as fear feeds his never ending hunger.



He strikes when the clock-tower strikes twelve

on the zero hour. One death falls upon another.

Before the bomb of insanity drops

the poor soul falls on the most heavy burden.

Why not before daylight, he dies.

One survives though with a cain of blood.