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Blood and roses. (Prose Poem) by backstreetdreamer

Red is the unconquered rose on the battlefield of man's destruction, to raise its crimson head bringing beauty where none was before. Cloaked in the thorns of futility yet unbowed before the storm, such blood red glory stands where before, all had fallen. For all his craft in arts of war man will never match it, for this rose of true compassion will live for evermore.

MacFrantic 12-Feb-05/7:34 PM
I can't believe I'm saying this, but if this had actually been a prose poem, I might have given it a higher score. And don't use "evermore" ever or more.
*8*




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