Cain and Abel

My hands were calloused, my back was bent,
I gave him the fruit of the soil I spent.
But the fire came down on my brother's gift,
And the silence that followed — it tore the rift.

Caaain! The first blood spilled!
Caaain! The first man killed!
I raised my hand — and I struck him down,
Caaain! The cursed crown!

I called him to the field at the break of day,
No witness, no mercy, no words to say.
A stone, a jawbone, a fist, a blow,
And the ground drank deep where the blood did flow.

"Where is your brother?" — the voice from above,
"Am I my brother's keeper?" — I spat with no love.
The earth cried out from beneath my feet,
And the curse was sealed with a mark on my meat.

Caaain! The first blood spilled!
Caaain! The first man killed!
I raised my hand — and I struck him down,
Caaain! The cursed crown!

A fugitive wanderer, a restless ghost,
I built the first city on a murdered man's post.
Sevenfold vengeance on anyone's head,
But the voice of my brother still screams in my bed.

Caaain! The first blood spilled!
Caaain! The first man killed!
I raised my hand — and I struck him down,
Caaain! The cursed crown!

...Am I my brother's keeper?...
...The blood cries from the ground...
...The mark never fades...
...The first murder never ends...