This is something i wrote for a writing excercise in class, how is this?
Of pure hatred betrayal is born. To roam the earth in darkness and solitude is to abandon all hope and love. And who cannot be trusted wears a mask of crimson, who's hands are stained with blood. Weilding a dagger in one palm and a knife in another, betrayal becomes pain. With one quick jab, crimson will spill and trust will be forever lost in the darkness of midnight.