Yours Truly, Me.

Black Roses

The planes come in at early light, and Death is in the air,

Everybody panics, all the calmness left us there,

Japan soared high above our ships, it flew atop our base,

They wouldn't stop, all hope was lost, it seemed they'd won the race.

The bombs would fall, and flames would bloom like flowers in the spring,

And it was always hard to comprehend who'd done this awful thing.

Decades later, we still do not forget this dreadful day,

We take it as a lesson, and so keep enemies at bay,

Roses now are blooming red, but before then they were black,

And with alarm, our people realized that the war was back.

Hatred filled our very veins, our hearts would burn with rage,

For we feared that we had failed to bring about a golden age,

Comprehending violence, we thought the world could do no more,

And yet our world still fertilized the flowers of our war,

But staying neutral couldn't bring peace, and hatred flooded through our gardens,

And soon enough, our people sought to win by wider margins,

Destruction would undo itself, as we dropped atomic bombs,

To prevent their doom, our enemies needed more than just some bronze,

The gardens of hatred face a drought, the flowers die and wilt,

And although men may have survived the war, none survived the guilt.