Lest the Blood Stain

After a moment they decided to call it a night.
There was a whisper of more,
But they carefully subsided themselves.
In exchange for the beneficial lacking they tip toed
Out of the house
Where not one,
But two people waited.
Not in reality,
But in a metaphorical standpoint
As a symbolic representation
Of symbols
He was tall and crooked
Looking as though he looped about himself in a spring format
Twisting and tying tighter the knot that was their ego.
And the couple looked at him momentarily,
And then they stared at the second.
An ash sillouette of a former human being.
Lacking form beneath the the dust
But moving freely as a human being
Lost among the falling snow.
These figures were there
Cold, and shivering
The snake, and the shadow.
The couple held hands then.
Gripping tighter their opposing rings.
Witnessed by these benevolent forces.
Like a serpent slithering in and choking them.
They gripped their fists tighter,
His ring cutting into her,
And hers into him
Until their blood letting seeped into the whitened snow
To dampen it red.
They shook.
Frozen and afraid.
Lightheaded and world weary.
They gripped tighter.
The figures walked about them then observing them through eyes that were not there.
In circles like birds of savagery
Preparing to pick at their skin
Waiting to rip out the organs
Those that contained the most nutritious aspects.
They did not attack and altogether vanished,
In what must have been an instant.
And the couple,
He and she, they let go.
They looked at one another as familiar strangers.
Ignored the blood on themselves.
And they went home to their families
He to his
And her to hers
Where their respective lovers did not questions the sores,
Had no questions for the dried stains of blood upon their clothes.
They simply regarded their faraway eyes
And seeing the torture therein
Did not seek to kill them again.