Musings of the Rose

This crisp air fills my lungs,

While these sweet words lay upon my tongue. 

And as I walk about this night,

I think of what will come at light.

 

Will justice come, seeing at last;

Looking into all men's past?

Or will the truth forever lie,

Silently allowing others to die?

 

And what will become of me, I wonder?

Will I follow lightning as the thunder?

Or shall I bring what has been sought;

The peace, with which so many lives was bought.

 

And will these deeds become but a memory,

Like these words on the breeze whispered by me?

Or will the knowledge live forevermore,

Of the Rose's two kings and their great war?

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