Gloves of ink with malignant grace,
draw blood red shaft to fly a deadly course.

O' Rose Of Sithis,
go with love of death,
your sweet kiss delivers to the embraceless realm of purity.

Fly to take the ones who lie in guilt and caustic dreams,
to prune the branches of fate and keep the green,
the pure that people see.

The few who know fail to understand,
and the few who understand are garbed like us,
to stalk the night and smile,
and feed Sithis with black elation.

Wow! I don't usually take to poetry to well, but I'd say that was rather well done. I like it!
It's a lot better than what I'm doing currently in my GCSE's

Nice. It seems almost... too detailed. Haha, it's really good, though.