Crimson Tears

Alone where countless fates were bound
upon the weary, war-trod ground
to fear enmeshed with last breath's hiss
and grief entwined with Death's chill kiss,
a sword upon which death amassed
sheds crimson tears for those who’ve passed.

And ‘neath this blade the blood does cool,
aye, lives of men do flood and pool!
And all because of hate so vast
that not a single life could last.
Now who to blame, when none are left,
when all lie still, of life bereft?

I shattered that cruel bloody blade
‘pon which so many deaths were made.
Twas that or cry… I screamed and raged,
for in my name a war was waged,
and on the field the price all shared
was to perish while I despaired.