Assassin

Snow fluttered on the ground.
A lone figure walked.
Drip...
Drip...
Drip...
Drop by drop,
Blood drips to the ground.
A shadow steps out.
Whish
Spurts
Blood dyes the newly fallen snow
Red.
The shadow goes back into the darkness
Wipes his sword
And considers
A job well done.
No one will ever know
Who did such a horrendous deed,
Because nobody wants to admit he's there.

Author's notes: a poem inspired by the loneliness and coldness that is brought about by Battousai as he is killer who has lost his reasons. He is very cold and lonely yet nobody really understands that he is just a human with a cause and devoid of emotion. If someone had cared for him or at least admit that he is a living human, he would not find joy in killing.