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This is a Morphed version of my poem, Bloods Worth to Life. This was written to go with a character of mine who has three split personalities, Zan, Zen and Zin. She calls them her sisters and she's a pretty demented vampire. Anyway, Enjoy.




Zen: A child’s silver tears hit the ground in front of her. Her pure white wings clipped by the man she stood and lived for. Invisible scissors in his hands, out lined by her blood.

Zan: The girl’s body battered and bruised, surrounded by her own damaged, feathered wings. Tears of silver mercury seep into the ground, a white rose at her feet, a magnum at its side.

Zen: The petals stained with blood, the magnum in my hand. The blood seeps from his head, tears stream down my face. A red hot dagger pressed to my skin, the smell of burning flesh. Slices on my wrists, the taste of blood in my mouth. What he did to me will never fade nor will my memories of him.

Zan: I hated it…I hated seeing so many happy when I could not be as them. I lick the blood from my cuts, hating and despising myself. Only to find that someone still cares.

Zen: A mans arms around my waist, my head on his chest, I ask, “How can you care about someone like me? A girl who hates herself and past more than the world?”. The only reply I get is him holding me tightly.

Zan: The magnum’s in my hand. I can pull the trigger. Lay a white rose on his grave! I can do it all!…But what I didn’t count on…was not being able to pull the trigger. I thought I could…but I can’t I’m faltering. I’m just too nice.

Bang!!! Clang!!

Zen: The magnums hit the floor.

Zan: A bullet in his head and my knees drop to the floor. Down on my hands and knees…wings sprout from my back, drenched in my own blood.

Zen: Four wings, two black and one white. The final one is grey, for the line some of you walk. But I stand on the black side of the ying yang’s line.

Zan: I’m pleased now…and happy he’s gone. It’s time to move on and not hide any more.

Zen: I want to see it again. I want to see it…again…and now.

Zan: The fire that follows and serves at my feet sets the ground a blaze at every step. There’s three souls in this body, we all stand on a different part of the ying yang. I stand…on the grey line.

Zen: The black side is my place.

Zin: I am the pure one. The light is where I am.

Zan, Zen, Zin: We are a ying yang form, walking the path of a…

Zan: Grey…

Zen: Black…

Zin: White…

Zan, Zen, Zin: Line to make our way of what we are.

Zen: I pulled the trigger…

Zin: I felt the guilt…

Zan: I was hated for it. Despised and spit on…though…I want to see it again…

Zin: Even…me…

Zan: The white rose petals…

Zin: They will drip…

Zen: With blood!!!

Zan: We’ve waited long enough…so now it’s time—

Zen: To revisit our past and finish what we started—

Zin: So long ago!

Zan: We’ll see it again some day and when that magnum and rose reappear—

Zin: They will…

Zan, Zen: Drip with…

Zen: Blood!!!

Zan, Zen, Zin: They will drip with BLOOD!!!