Work Text:
When blood falls upon consecrated ground,
Do you hear it fall against the snow,
Does it even make a sound?
Do you hear it over the ringing in your ears,
The pounding in your chest,
All the thoughts, all the fears,
That’re clouding up your head?
When blood falls upon consecrated ground,
Is it mercy over demise?
Does it bring you any joy at all,
Seeing nothing behind your own friend’s eyes.