A Floral Gift From Indecency manifest
A screaming silence fills the dust-choked air
As shocked countenance stares from one to the ether,
The whispers held in hearts plead with Fate, its cruel design
Distorting the innocent beauty inherent in those not here long,
Or long enough, as ruptured tomorrows lie vacant and still.
The terrifyingly hallowed place upon which the broken child lies,
Still, vital essence oozing upon the cracked and dry infertile bed;
A soil-less surface where the red petals bloom, the red blossom grows,
Now fixes the weeping posied stain that signals innocence released;
Removed; a small shattered skull seeping and leaving behind a flower.
For whistling death from Zion is manna, for what is now The Palestine Rose.