Crimson Stain

To whom this may concern, 

I am but a mere traveler

in my journeys I have seen much of pain and suffering.

Much of the same color dripping 

on war torn land,

just as it drips out of a war torn mind.

The color drips as it stains ones memory. 

This color is never ending

a fountain to life, 

yet it could be the end of one.

The color is rich and vibrant 

and once it's spilled beyond ones grasp.

The color of ones skin should not matter

on a decision to end such crimson spill.

At the end of the day we all bleed the same.