Hate you strike, without a thought

A sudden tempest on a calm spring day

Plucking at the cherry blossoms

Their fragile petals, fair like snow

Now stained with blood, and the tears

Of too many punctured promises

Dreams that will never come true

As the storm sweeps them from sight


Up above, a burning crimson sun

Cries fiercely in torment, sinking now

Into the still ashes of another night

This one blackened by grief’s shadow

As even the stars have dimmed their gaze

Is it respect? Or a callous detachment?

I’ll pray for their beacons to glow once more

And guide mortal hearts to unite with love



Image: Dali, Archaeological Reminiscence of Millet’s Angelus


Published by Cara Amy Goldthorpe

Storyteller, holistic health guide, and lawyer, with a mission to promote health and ways of living more harmoniously on this planet and with each other.

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