The Orange Trees

Twenty Wounds.

As the clock chimed 4, you were surrounded,

They without warning invaded your sanctuary,

The sound of the hooves loudly pounded...


You promised me that you would not shoot them down,

But even so, in the crimson tide you drowned,

The pain of it all is too horribly found...


They gunned you down in the field, like thieves in the dark,

They gunned you down like a ravenous beast,

Unknowing, I walked amongst the flowers in the park...


Twenty wounds riddled your poor form,

I felt an odd pang of horror and wondered,

Your clothes were soaked, the wounds had worn...


Twenty wounds they dealt you...

Trampled and murdered...


Yet your spirit is strong,

And though it was wronged,

Your spirit gives flight,

To that wondrous white light!