The Gravewalker; The Craziest Woman in the West

Church bells gather the attention of men
Who seek to rejoice in blood
This desert is more like a pail of sand
that is suffocating those who live in it.
Heat lingers on the backs of those who have wandered too far to the sun
Poison is in our skin and yet we try to keep walking even then
These bastards drink our blood as we sleep,
they underestimate the ferocity of a cornered prey.
Clawing your way through a field of glass
Just to prove a point to a dying friend
That yes it will hurt,
And though you will bleed,
There will come a way
For you to push back in the end.