Where the Poppies Grow

Inside the forest depths, crimson water overflows. And from red waters rises white poppies. Blossoming poppies flood the bloody soil disguising the fallen bodies underneath. The heated noon causes the pungent smell of rot to drown out the perfume of poppies. The musk of spilled blood refuses to dissipate under the aroma of the floral scent. While time will speed on and history will remember the events of the war with floral-covered glasses, the scarlet blood will still pop through the bed of white poppies. The bed is full of war-torn bodies that even a trillion poppies can never hide. END.

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