The wind blows over the hill The scent flows in the air The Lillies at the top let out their fragrances The joy they collected from the sun It flows from the top to the bottom of the hill Down to the houses of the peasants, bringing them the joy poverty took But the fragrance flows right by There is no appreciation for it The lifeless bodies in the grasses The village becomes a mass grave Their sadness is over
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Posted: Jul 2022
About this poem:
It's not literal. Well, it is literal. I just had words that came to my mind, so the coordination may be shaky. Don't be sad. It actually comes from a happy place.
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