The white rose wilts in her garden
telling her that her love has died
and the tears of dew
are in unison of her own eyes

She did not want him to go
but he was duty bound
and in the shells of war
he wrote in blood his last note

For this was a war of slaughter
a war veiled in terrible death
a war of loss of good men
in the slime of generals glory

They noted the deaths
then they call for more
for more good men
to die in this war

A thankless and hard task
just like the 60's
but now all are frightened
where beauty lays betrayed

Such political wars
why do they not fight them
and leave the common man
in harmony and sweet peace


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris