The Nightingale

A nightingale's cry pierces the night
Blood will have blood will have blood,
A rose isn't worth the price paid
When innocence is lost in the flood.

But the keeper of Hell's gate sends his raven
And my delusions are put to rest,
Illusions of victory cloud my mind
My conscience weak to protest.

A nightingale's song has ended tonight
Blood will have blood in torrents,
My passage to Hell an infernal descent
My soul to dwell there in torment.

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Yet another poem from my Macbeth theme.