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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/893384-The-White-Rose
Rated: E · Poetry · War · #893384
Something I wrote in 1989, but approprite for present times. The horrors of war ...
The sun rose slowly from the horizon,
The mist travelled along, through the hills,
The dew drops glittered and sparkled_
Like diamonds, among the grasses green.

A new day dawned.
The White Rose awoke and lifted her head.
She shook off the dew, and smiled at the sun.
The day was fresh and new.
She looked around in sheer joy_
As she listened, to the morning birds’ song.

But, what did she see?
Death! And destruction!
Shots rang out as they fell with cries of agony,
And their bodies lay with unusual stillness.
Pools of blood swirled around.
The pitiful cries echoed everywhere,
As the river of tears tumbled down.

The White Rose shivered,
And sorrow crept through her heart.
She cried as she prayed for them all.
She prayed for peace and happiness.
Her white petals faded.
She bent her head, and fell into a deep sleep_
Never to wake up again.
The sun went down, sadly.
Darkness spread across the world.
© Copyright 2004 Unicorn (unicorn2 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/893384-The-White-Rose