Dig my grave

Dig my grave, will you?
I am ranger looking for dust
I have a knife, blood-sharp
Many heads have rolled over it
The stains have started to hurt
And memories are bleeding.

I'd put myself to rest
For tired I am of the murders
Killing might be peaceful
For soldiers, not for me;
I have a lake of blood
With nothing to clean my skin.

So dig my grave, will you?
I have reasons to sleep!