The Taken

Here in this broken place. I've spilled the blood of others. I've tasted pain on my lips. I've touched the cracked hearts. The thunder that rolls over my head, has awakened the ones longed dead, but what could I do to avoid this tragedy? What could make it easier? The stones were destroyed ages ago. Someone came and disturbed their sleep. Now I am witnessing their rise, and I cannot lull them back to rest. I tried to sing to them. A hymn that would rest their weary souls, but it seems so little can help them. and Now I have become their victim. With my own eyes, the soil soaks up my blood. My hands have become numb, and my heartbeat is slowing in my chest. They have taken me, and I will be nothing but a waste.