You call this a bloodline? (4)

Poem line order:(Read first to last)
(1)Blades of Immortality
(2)Rotten Fruits of the Harvest
(3)Dance in Hell
(4)You call this a bloodline?
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As his soul enters the pit
The queen gets more food
But she needs to feed
Once again

Dear queen,how many have you slaughtered?
How many souls can be counted on your fingers?
How many breaths signify genuine death?
Oh queen,how could you?

Suction on the walls
All the dead corpses
And yet you will let it go
In here?

The stench of gruesome murder
Tasted in the unclean air
Oh,it makes one feel impure
Queen,are you dead yet?
I shall hunt you down.

The queen sits on her thrown
Looking in her crystal pool
And at the bottom there\'s the image
Of her destined target.

She summons her evil ones
And they bow before her
Changing into skin
In haste

She hands each of them a gun
To shoot the next
If they do not come by will

\"Bring me the body
Let the cheeks be ordained
And do not suck the blood
Not a drop to be spilled\"

They obey
As they seek the one
Who happens to be walking
Down the street

As they aim their guns
The soon-to-be victim senses them
And shifts their spot
In a flash

With a flick of wrist,a chant of words
The Asian symbols lighting up in the palm of their hands
They use their power
And with a blinding burst of color
The monsters die
As the victim (you may as well call)
Is pulled down through their shadow

A muffled cry of anger
As they\'re thrust toward the queen
The two guards pointing spears directly to their neck

\"My,my..what do we have here?\"
The queen glowers
The captive on knees does not fear.
They stand up to face them;they each stare for hours
And then realize they are so near
\"Cousin.\" mumbles the queen
As she looks into the oceanic eyes
The other huffs,with no surprise
Light blond hair
Matched against red
As they fight each other
Head-to-head

A sword forms for the both of them
(Yes,it is fantasy)
And in this battle one will win
To greet all their dreams
A swift kick,a punch
They tumble to light and dark clouds
Both of them surrounded
In chafed,dusty shrouds
The queen feels her jaw
Pouring out black blood
She moans and lurches forward
As the other gives a thud
Then before either can get up
Someone jumps in
In the next one
Ladies,gents,
Who do you think will win?