Love and War

A Spartan battlefield, barron and stark, apart from a single spear embedded in the soil. 

No bird here, no finch, nor sparrow,

But shoots of Crocus so green, so pure, sprouting with beads of dew hanging on their very skin,

So small, so delicate. 

The freshest breeze blowing down on their hanging heads,

Time stands still. 

for a moment death returns and sadness envelopes them, 

A burst of warm sunlight from beyond distant murky clay hills

raises their heads bit by bit and the chitter chatter of Sparrows soon follows. 

The Greek elite were victorious, 

The enemy ignored their message of "IF" and threw an onslaught regardless,

Swiftly and powerfully the foe was destroyed, 

With violence and bloodshed

freedom was assured.

A pity. 

Though, 

the bloom of the Crocus and the Laconium Thyme was immenent, the purest of beauty and natural freedom. 

They threatened with "If we invade you we shall conquer you" 

The Spartans replied with a singular word "IF". 

The embedded spear was for not long alone, love from nature would surround it and in time prayer would overpower it.