Battlefield Rest

Battered, bloodstained, and weary
I collapse onto the ruined ground
Back against the grass, eyes to the sunrise
Watching peaceful clouds drift across a pink-orange sky
Petals in my peripheral, I turn my gaze to see
A sea of Primroses as far as the horizon
They drift aimlessly in the gentle breeze
As the cacophony of hatred continues so close
My red stains their peaceful existence 
And yet they seem all the more beautiful
They roll over me, 
Blanketing me softly in their embrace
As distant thunder tolls nearby 
I whisper a hoarse apology for disturbing the peace
Yet they continue to cushion my weak body
As life continues to desert me, 
My eyes stay fixed on the wildflowers
To be my comfort through the battle

An eruption of noise too close for comfort
Destroying the stillness of the field, 
Throwing me a distance
Now facedown and helpless, and so sleepy,
Gazing quietly at the crushed petals beneath me
Watching blood flow through the dirt
The Primroses shelter me
And launch me skyward,
Away from harm

This poem is about: 
Our world

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