Silent and red
With bloody, flashlit intersections
The town awaits; dark and heavy,
The cloak of nighttime lies spread
Over our souls; dim traces of sunlight
Expire slowly in a dusty corner
As shadows bloom... And never again
Will the sun rise like yesterday
Such a gain, such a loss - Atrocious
silver crosses cry their sparks for piety
on pagan chests, and fade into the darkness
awaiting a morning that refuses to come.