Triumphant Roses

The rallying cry rises and wavers.
Triumphant roses ripped apart, arrogantly.
Rising and rising but falling still.
Blue, blue. Surrounded. What happened?
The fish. Yes. Those fish
drowned in daring gold designs.
These fingers flutter and fly
Up and Up but down still.
Tears and turmoil of the torn
and severed hand holding a daisy.
The swordfish dances around and around
but must we fall to an uncertain promise?
Kill, kill. Survive. Why? Why?
It whispers and whistles but wavers.
And here it comes. Closer. Closer.
The contrast. Oh the contrast
caresses the room careening
and fleeing. Certainly.
Torn and trapped. So quickly.
Red and blue but how?
They must go. Soon.and Sooner still.
Tears floating in the wind.
So quaint and quiet and colorful.
Yet, We are unbecoming. Uninspired.
They watch the clipped right wing
sing like it has not seen the night before.
But now rest will come but rest will not stay.
the tomato has been soiled and seared.
Yet, Can you believe what we've become?