Roses bloom amidst the war
As red as blood wasted in vain
With lust, hatred we can’t go far
As brutes we all are to remain.

Still roses bloom though they’re deprived
Of sense of purpose and beauty
But men all strut and all arrived
To value pride, worship vanity.

As roses bathe with blood in the field
These fallen soldiers, they blankly stare
To death their vanity had to yield
To Styx their souls will have to fare.

If roses feel, if they can cry
The world shall be all its ears
For they shall wail and they shall sigh
They’ll flood the world with bitter tears.

But roses stay beside the fallen
And visit them upon their graves
Such painful duty has befallen
To every rose, each task it braves.

Of purpose they boast sans beauty
These roses all in time abide
To be all loyal to the duty
That weaker hearts can all deride.

Can all of roses strum the pain
The strings of broken hopes and dreams?
Though roses, pure, they all can stain
Reminiscent minds from where pain streams.

Yes, roses bloom amidst the war
All heads bowed down, their own salute
The fallen, each now owns a star
To fly towards the Absolute.

From roses all the world can learn
About the pains we’re to reject
And fill our hearts with joys to earn
When love it is we’re to project.

--Anonymously Ken