You can nuke,
or you can spare
a red, red rose.

How grand—
to rule by choice,
to roar with the claim
your vision is pure,
as clear
as morning dew.
Yet you harbour genocide
in Palestine - the innocent rose.

Have you forgotten?
The last titan’s
Rise and Fall?
It will repeat.
That’s no lie.

The nightingale’s ode
to the rose
isn’t always whole.

It knows—
some places
bear more thorns
than eyes can hold.

But like yesterday,
tomorrow again,
it will hum
for the rose.