Need a western poem with a melancholy breath of death

The wound in the distance has not been forgotten. What's worth singing about? Death and despair. The red blood is flowing, and I can't feel any light. These geometries are displayed in the window. Crows are in pairs. Ancient battlefield ghosts sing softly. There is no love and no hope. Fallen souls are treasured by Satan. The filth of human nature is like a curse in sin. It was sung as a hymn and wandered until death. Blood is flowing, and death is the ultimate direction. It is rare for the devil to spread his wings. Faced with infinite arrogance, the eyes of the world are dull, their greedy desires, and the devil carefully collects angels and sings softly, which can't save their hearts and unclean bodies. They have never forgotten their sarcasm, and the whole world is panicking.