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"Paint the roses red" she screamed,
For white had reminded her of the deeds
That had no longer been as innocent as they were,
Before she felt the fire within her
"Dire the consequences will be"
"For those who seek serenity"
Her voice, so coarse, boomed across,
Every bush, tree, and even the moss.
Humming the tunes of loyalty,
the soldiers painted the roses mindlessly.
"Painting the roses red", they sang,
Into the night, and day again.
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YOU ARE READING
Honeypot | poems
Poetry❝ honey and milk in a golden pot ❞ collection of amatuer poems by naira arden. © honeygolds 2019
