Beds of roses, by Dave Rendle

Finding no sanctuary in my sleep
Nightmares roaring in my head
Scenes of desolation and devastation
Certainly no bed of roses

In war ravaged countries
The rattling call of injustice
A cauldron of death and despair
No respite or any beds of roses

Amid the poverty and desperation
Where people grieve for their dead
The ever flowing tide of human misery
For the children, no beds of roses.

Anguished eyes gaze, frail hands reach out
Barren lands flooding with tears overflowing
Global silence decapacitating hope
as the night calls, no bed of roses.

While humanity turns away and abandons
Another dawn exudes deaths mephitic odour
How can we fail to speak out, not be silent
Reach out, cultivate fertile beds of roses.

An injury to one is an injury to all
A collective thorn of pain and misery
We can cover our eyes, be indifferent
Or help those in need, offer beds of roses ,

From the heartache, filled with cries
We can send messages to the politicians
The gift of solidarity to those that deserve
And when wars cease, beds of roses will grow.

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