Lily to the Rose
Before the war –
I was beautiful.
My soul plain
Not even knowing distain
And now –
I'm beautiful, as always
But my soul molded in clay,
Trapped in dismay
I was a lily,
Now a rose
Before, the delicate white flower
Now, endangering all who came too close
The burden of freedom, resting in my hand
Sometimes I wonder –
Would I be the one destroyed
at the very end?
