I watch as blood wells from a scratch on my hand, red slowing forming into drops that look like priceless gems, before they slowly slip and drop to stain the floor in inexplicable beauty.

*swoons* I love the blood imagery in this. Bruce's thoughts get all poetic when he's about to bite the dust, and it's fitting, the way he sees his blood seep into Gotham. Wonderful imagery, and hurray for Clark!