Sky was loosing its light and was lit with red and purple strips on the horizon. In the silence of the surrounding his voice reverberated far into the shadows.
...
Softly mincing
pounding into sand
treasured tiny feet
lovely crimson hand
low murmur remains
of what were shrieks and sobs
piled into shredded heap
those that once were robes
lonely shack that carried
sadness vast as sea
though for moments few
still got a little company
Running away, in front of me
you look you breath you stand
lonely you were like me so I
welcome you to my land
"hmm hmm"
Humming his favorite poem Sanguine gave his knives a final appraising glance.
Seemingly happy with his work his eyes shone bright in anticipation. Deep smile that was etched in his eyes and the corners of his mouth, deepened a few points more.
He gingerly put away his knives that were emitting a soft glow, in a plain gray leather box.
Light of the lamp was getting low but his most deadly collection of bloodthirsty knives and daggers which was bestowed with life after innumerable slaying, shone brightly with hues of reds and blues.
After tucking the leather box in the secret compartment in the wall behind his desk, he was ready to welcome his guests, he hadn't seen in a long while.