The Red Specter

There was a red, raw dripping thing that mowed
And tottered in a spreading pool of blood;
There was a shape, on which a scarlet flood
Enwrapped it in a steaming blood-red shroud;
There was a sound, gigantically loud,
That seemed to pour from where the horror stood;
There was a crackle as of blazing wood,
And all the air was misty as a cloud.

And both my hands were covered with that red,
And everything was red and strange and mad;
I scarce could know the evil that I did;
The air from some vast stellar carnage bled
And veiled the shrieking shape in haze that had
Red phantoms in its bleeding mystery hid.