Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia and Hetaoni.
Alone
One step, I could fall.
One wrong turn, bodies will surround my feet.
I feel dark as I cried at your pained faces.
My cries wasn't heard or sought.
I felt taunted and taunted, his voice hurting me.
He reminds me how I was useless to save them, like how I let him go.
The running and crying felt gone and dark, as the river bed glows with blood and mock.
One, a sheath laid beside its holder.
Two, he sighed sadly as the others left him alone.
Three, his rose gleamed with red as his life got stripped away.
Four, he wished to see his brother while feeling his memories stay.
Five, he rested upon a comfy bed with blank eyes.
Six, he waited for his brother and remained with questions.
Seven, he stayed with a promise of sadness and loyalty.
Eight, he went through horror with determination and keen.
Nine, he sacrificed so much to let me escape.
I counted and counted, blood soaking my tears.
As I'm alone once again with blood-smeared digits and the seer.
A/N: I wanted to make a poem of what Italy went through. I could make more about Hetaoni, but I guess it's here for now.