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
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 5:48 PM UTC
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
Request permission to use this poem