deepundergroundpoetry.com
Death from Above, Version 1
A bird falls from the sky,
A broken arrow shot from high.
It lands in the mud,
Its lifeblood pooling red.
A flower sprouts from the soil,
Defying the war and the toil.
It reaches for the light,
Its fragrance filling the night.
Death from above,
Life from below.
Memories fade far away.
A soldier crouches in a trench,
His heart pounding in his chest.
He hears the bombs falling,
And he knows that he could be next.
He thinks of his home and family,
And he wonders if he will ever see them again.
He thinks of the horrors of war,
And he knows that he will never be the same.
But then he sees a flower,
Sprout from the ground.
It is a small thing,
But it is a symbol of hope.
The soldier smiles,
And he knows that he will survive.
He knows that life will go on,
And that love will always triumph over hate.
Death from above,
Life from below.
Memories fade far away.
But the flower remains,
A reminder that life is precious,
And that hope never dies.
A broken arrow shot from high.
It lands in the mud,
Its lifeblood pooling red.
A flower sprouts from the soil,
Defying the war and the toil.
It reaches for the light,
Its fragrance filling the night.
Death from above,
Life from below.
Memories fade far away.
A soldier crouches in a trench,
His heart pounding in his chest.
He hears the bombs falling,
And he knows that he could be next.
He thinks of his home and family,
And he wonders if he will ever see them again.
He thinks of the horrors of war,
And he knows that he will never be the same.
But then he sees a flower,
Sprout from the ground.
It is a small thing,
But it is a symbol of hope.
The soldier smiles,
And he knows that he will survive.
He knows that life will go on,
And that love will always triumph over hate.
Death from above,
Life from below.
Memories fade far away.
But the flower remains,
A reminder that life is precious,
And that hope never dies.
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