Field of Red Roses

And the raindrops hit the palm leaves

They’re like the smooth, long faces of the

Warriors resting during battle

You know…

When they cry in mourning of all that has been lost.

 

They have been winning the battle,

But losing the war.

 

The sun shone again with a false promise of drying out the running water

But the warriors know they must get back on the field

And fight.

 

The palm fronds turn yellow with the light of the sun.

Then they turn reddish brown

–The warriors have lost the battle now too.

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