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?