THERE WILL COME SOFT RAINS  
by Sara Teasdale
 
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,  
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;  
And frogs in the pools, singing at night,  
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,
 
Robins will wear their feathery fire,  
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;  
And not one will know of the war, not one  
Will care at last when it is done.
 
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,  
If mankind perished utterly;  
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,  
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

Grimdark tag… 2 splotches of blood. 2 splotches of blood on bandages. Da-fuq.

Very “All Quiet on the Western Front” -esk.