Poetry.....Beginning To End

Blood Stained Hands

I stared at them

And they stared back

My hands refuse to become clean

They want to tear me to shreds

Red

With blood

They cannot become clean

They caressed the silver dagger

The dagger that caused so much pain

They lifted the dagger

And thrust it to his chest

He died soundlessly

Painlessly?

I don't know

And I don't care

Or rather

I would not care

If only my hands would be clean

You cannot see the blood on my hands

No mere mortal can see it

But I can see

And smell it

Like salt and rust

All the water in the seven seas

Cannot wash these hands clean

They may not ever be clean

For when I am asleep

They shall tear my eyes

Out from my head

And the blood stained hands

Shall be buried the the crust of the earth

Along with this tortured body

And this body shall rise again

For it was not burnt

So the evil shall remain

Upon this forsaken earth

Until the tongues of flames

Creep up onto me

And extinguish the eternal flame

Of evil.