Admiration for those who bade our fate survive; filled
our hearts with hope than prayers of ice. May the blood-
shed turn to petals of rose; we lament their loss in rhyme
At times we wonder where martyrs be; through morning
skies from marsh to sea. Though best of men have toiled
in the sun; their vows have saved more heads than one.
Fond this wish seemed strange to me;
Which rose and shook this spirit free.
Photo credits: courtneydefeo.com
Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United