Applause to the Blackness

A murmur, spreading through the crowd,
rising into a wailing cheer.
A sound so terrifying, horrible,
it breaks the heart to hear.

The ghostly shadows of the truth,
grimly shouting for victory.
Gunshots ringing through the air,
as if joyful to be free.

Some people fall, some people fight,
murderers with no thought.
They merely kill for what is theirs,
and for what is not.

The pools of blood, pure grimy swirls,
spilling softly on the dirt.
Stains like broken rainbows,
stars on their torn shirts.

Their blood-red eyes, so filled with lust,
of pain and empty sorrow.
The memory of what was right,
gone, now they're just hollow.

Machines of flesh and blood they are,
killing pointlessly left and right.
Until the deaths make no sound at all,
smothered softly by the night.

And once again, the crowd does cheer,
clapping loudly as they scream.
Applauding the cruel darkness,
as it erases what is clean.