Part 2: Blood in the Water

There’s a calm after the slaughter,
That no one’s left to witness.
There’s blood in the water
That the earth’s left to digest.

But when the wounds run too deep,
The blood won’t stay still.
First it slid slow with a creep,
Until it spilled down the hill.

We crashed through brush, stumbled hard
I knelt down to take a drink.
But you saw then, the river’s scars,
The water there, was pink.

You smelt blood in the water,
With a taste you knew its cause.
Murders, you saw there,
Staring into Satan’s jaws

You traced back to where the red fell
Through life and death you waded.
I bent down – that iron smell,
Still, on the ground, I prayed.

“By the blood of the martyr,
And his heart in my chest:
May blood split by marauders,
Stay divinely blessed.”

A black feather fell down,
So sharp the light pierced you.
The glass blade, your hand found,
The ouroboros must continue.

The air around us grew somber.
T’was time to settle the score.
You smelt blood in the water,
You had to add more.