Divine Drink?

I held out my tongue and tasted metal

The drops on my face stung like a nettle

I opened my eyes and saw a splash of red

Were the clouds up in the sky filled with the dead?

I looked up and it was raining blood

I glanced back down at Martian mud

The grass was filled with an iron stench

I felt like a soldier trapped in a trench

One more time, I dared to see

what the cause of such bloodshed above me could be

There, up in the heavens, the Son of God lay

trying to clean up his spilt wine in dismay