She would expect it to be red.

Yet through the seams and rips of flesh

And dripping from her lethal knife

There runs a dark and fatal ink

That smears across her hands.

She dreaded walking through the crowd.

Yet as she stares the more she sees,

And dripping from each human form

There is that darkened cold black ink

That coats her every breath.

Some scorch across the forehead while some seep out from the chest,

Some black corrodes the heavy steps and nips their tortured guest. 

All crowd and choke and hover like crazed demons from below, 

who grasp their whips and lift their fists to spur their slaves to go.

She stares with choking numbness.

And as the hours dwindled by

With passing nightmares now alive

She takes the silver at her side

And runs it through her soul.

Sources: Imagination. Spiritual realm seen in Physical realm. Philosophy. Morality. Questions.

Ingredients: Sin. Guilt. Despair. Reality.

Peculiar Observations: There are so many ways one can view the world, and the way they see is drastically effected by their experiences. While this one is in darkness, another is in a field of flowers. I guess wisdom comes when you can open your eyes to all the different aspects of the world, empathize with it, and then overcome it?