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Blood and roses. Red is the unconquered rose on the battlefield of man's destruction, to raise it's crimson head bringing beauty where none was before. Cloaked in the thorns of futility yet unbowed before the storm, such blood red glory stands where before, all had fallen. For all his craft in arts of war man will never match it, for this rose of true compassion will live for evermore. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2004-12-05 13:52:46
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.53846
The red rose...and the poppy. I liked the line "cloaked..." Good one.I'm not sure if I
agree with 'for all his craft in arts in war" line. I've never looked at war as a craft! Maybe
their is some craft in blowing up people? I don't know. I don't know anything. I enjoyed this
piece. Thanks for posting.