Where Are The Flowers?
I often dream of lush green meadows,
With bloming flowers,
And cherry blossom petals,
Swirling around me,
A fragrance of freedom,
Peace and,
Tranquility,
That forever will have a place in my mind,
I dream,
Of a place where,
Nothing matters,
Where I am free to run and frolic,
Live my life,
As I please.
But this vision of life,
Is merely a vision,
It is not a reality,
It is a fantasy,
And nothing else,
Nothing more,
For these flowers are wilted,
And the cherry blossoms,
Crushed on the floor.
The lush green grasses,
Are deprived of water,
And die,
In a field of blood and pain,
The odor of death shrouds this field,
My field of once life,
For I am slowly dying,
Slowly being overcome,
By this miasma of
BLACK
Wrote this a long time ago.