Translate   10 years ago

Blood From Each Lost Man A drop of crimson blood, From each lost man, Fills to the brim, a silver cup. Take this bejewelled goblet, And place it in the glow of the moon, Let it shimmer and soak up the subtle sheen, Until, by the moon, it is blessed. Then shower the men's blood upon the still earth, And in it's drenched place, Flowers start to push up through the soil, Their delicate petals red and their heads held high. High like the heads of soldiers, As they walk towards the death, Ready to fight. #household #cup #remember

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