Walking through valleys of roses, dragon flies leading her path

The wind caresses her rosemary cheeks

Look at her, her beauty lights up the heavenly sky

Her smile brightens the heaviest hearts. Broken mothers, fatherless children fear for the day that she falls to her knees with salty water drops in those eyes.

The girl plays happily on the fields of green, every vibrant color a new discovery. The trees are gifts from God is what she says. There she specifically picks a sun flower for her father, and a lily for her mother, “they remind me of them,” is what she said.

God gave this to her, the beauty; gave his planet, his everything.

There she sits rubs her eyes with her little hand and cries. The birds stop chirping, the bees stop buzzing, and the trees stop swaying. The world just stops. Every eye, every ear looks and listens as the heavens cry.

Her hands covered in ruby. Her eyes blinded by ashes.

A valley of roses no more but stream of blood left behind from mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. Dearly beloved husbands, wives, and lovers.

Pallor cheeks from the entire gray.

Look at her; dark unhappy eyes do not lighten up the heavenly skies.

This is the world wars have created. They shorten up lives. They bring depression, no wonder there’s plentiful of suicide.

Look to the heavens, does he deserve this? God gave us the gift of life with a rose.

Are we not ashamed of what we’ve done to his gift? Are we not ashamed of how we shall return?

If God created the heavens and the earth as beatitude, he also created us. He created us just a step below the angels but an image of himself nonetheless. He gave us choice to be his children but tis in our own destiny.

It’s up to us to make that choice

A child with rosemary cheeks or

An infinite amount of unwanted eternity of ruby.