Life flows on both sides of my pale white skin,
Drains from blade’s touch letting out what was in,
Warmth of being leaves as it gently slips,
Cool as it reaches to my fingertips
Then timed with ever shallow heartbeats drips,
Healing hands touches wounds to make it end,
Minor impaling there’s others that die,
Carried home on shields and the widows cry,
I step in my crimson pool and walk by,
Tracking self as prayer crosses my lips,
Greetings at home gladness and sorrow blend.