I have often wondered about the
cost of blood
Mine heart often weeps at flowers
that adorn graves
That young soldiers easily let
out and take away
Where do they bring such angst,
such rage?
A cursed gift to bleed and not
hurt.
Oh! What a waste of beauty
Cruel fates of daisy to be
plucked for the dead
Moved for rotting flesh and
broken bones.
Are my heartfelt, soul urged,
palms joined and head bowed wishes
Not a chariot golden enough to
take my love to heavens
That I have sacrificed another
for my own?
Tell me Paladin, what is the cost
of one life?
No King can insure a cloud for
men next to Gods,
No Queen’s land can make the wicked
rest in peace.
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