For the end of 2021, there will be two posts this December! Since a once in a lifetime celestial event happen, I couldn't help but write about it myself. If you would like to vote on upcoming posts to the blog, head over to my Patreon, and if you can become a patron. Also, if you like buy my poetry book, "Living Day by Day: A Collection of Poems" and leave a review.
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.
