I sit in the bleachers

Staring, seeing them arrive.

Their black uniforms

With lace of red,

And their hair of shadow,

Eyes of ice,

They begin their performance.

As the metal riffs rise

The drum pounding

As their formation forms

The music stops slowly

And the leader speaks.

"Red and black." She yells,

With the riffs beginning again.

Calling out the colors,

The cheers were strong and aggressive.

A strange group of spirits,

Fueled by strength

A different kind of spirit.

A different kind of cheer.

I'm considering writing a full story about this. Don't forget to review! Thanks!