Prose Poem № 120007
Blood and roses.
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.
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