• Petals, petals of white, stained, tainted with crimson drops. Crimson drops splattered everywhere, splattered for the eye to see, for the nake eye to see. Eyes stare and wonder what the drops are, wonder what they are for, are the drops for anything at all? Do they hold any meaning? Eyes searching for their meaning, eyes searching and somehow finding their meaning as they look at the delicate gentle rose in the pool of blood. A single rose, a single rose that knows and saw all of what happened, a witness to the devastation. A witness to the horror, the horror that is truth, truth that is death.

    I have a painting that goes along with this and it's finally up! So please comment on it!