Praying woman hands

Admiration for those who bade our fate survive; filled
our hearts withΒ hope than prayers of ice.Β May the blood-
shed turn to petals of rose; we lament their loss in rhyme
and prose.

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:Β

Posted for Midweek Motif @ Poets United