It’s Raining Blood
It’s raining blood on the wicked’s heads
It’s Raining Blood
It’s raining blood on wicked heads,
For every lie their voices spread.
The blood falls, like a red stream,
payback for shattering innocents dreams.
Bring justice to the storm-filled skies,
To cleanse the earth where badness lies.
The wicked cower, their power drains,
Drenched in the weight of their own stains.
It’s raining blood, yet the earth shall heal,
The wicked fall beneath the wheel.
For all their sins, the skies have bled,
It’s raining blood on wicked heads.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
This is a very good poem that as Dharrsheena has said is quite intense
Oooo, I especially loved how intense this was!