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Deathly Pure Rose
February 19, 2016
The innocent, the young
Fall under this pallor
In dawn or in dark
Shining bright, white in color
The deathly, the wrong
The fighters, the ones in pain
On the brink of hell
The poor souls, and their bane
The roaring sky
And the affection of the heart
The bombs dropping from the air
The end of the start
No one left to weep
How to start anew
When everybody's gone
No one left to help pull through
The tale of a dead kiss
The story of a stolen novel
The mind of a broken Jew
Nothing can ever be normal
© Ricky P., Natchitoches, LA
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This poem is based on The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak.