Bleeding Shadows

I used to think that trees danced at night and that's kind of what brought up this poem.

 

Beautiful Earth fresh and pure.

Wind flows and makes its gentle whistle.

Nature awakens with a dance.

This light, why does it dim?

A swift wind, blood.

An angels’ halo falls.

Beautiful rain, white features more blood.

Rain turns into red stained feathers.

Where has the light gone?

The Earth is stained with such impure shadows which form from blood.

Shadows stop the wind, for nature can not dance without wind.

Now earth is bleeding.

Author's Note

I don't mean it to seem emo if it does.