A damaged broken flag is fluttering in the wind
It clings lichen like to wood melted by time
You can not not see it tear and rip
As entropy begins to take its pleasures
And rain soaks and mold consumes
Still the flag bravely flutters flapping
The flag has long been sun bleached white
As though to say it has surrendered
But you can see it's tenacity
A white dove soars above tenderly
The flag fights on against the wind
It's mighty reaching as though to say:
I long to soar above this sorry world
And through will and destiny ever so rarely align
A great Storm rolls down the mountain
The flag cries out in full mast, full form
It's wooden anchor holding fast
But the the wood gives a gentle sigh and groan
“Old friend I can fight no more. Let me rest and you have you day of flight.”
And with a cracking moan, the old wood bid the flag goodnight
And then that single white flag did fly
As the Storm broke upon the sky
And sunlight rays pierced through
Turning, up world ravaged lands so blue
And then the birds all took flight.
And the flag flew proud
Though rip battered rotten and torn
The flag was see by all with the message to which it was born
“We can all be free if we really fight and endure, However briefly that is.”