My Little Rose

My my, how you have grown

From a delicate rose petal

With brush-stroke perfect lips

And kisses soft as snow

To a fierce warrior

Holding her bow

Aimed at those crooked soldiers

Who dare to storm the plains down below

As they prepare to ransack our sacred home.

I remember long ago

You used to play innocently in that meadow

Before it was washed crimson from bloodshed

And now you stand victorious

Overlooking the fallen battlefield all alone

My little rose, our village’s hero.

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