taste lust desire in the air for blood

it was the sweet scent of death that lured her to speak
it was the sweet scent of death that hung in the air
for once she had dealt with such blood dyed atmosphere
too long ago, the present being sweet silence she could almost taste the air
in a battle fought hard, a war torn cry from child driven mad
indeed what makes the heart fonder is time
she'll beat herself up for guilt later for thy comrade's blood