Peter S. Quinn


The Sun Burning Flowers of Dust


Lay low lay low lay low,
The sun burning flowers of dust,
Shall you never again grow?
Just hide among death and rust.

Lay low lay low lay low,
When you were found you were lost,
And even then people didn't know,
All wars are just blood and cost.

Lay low lay low lay low,
You are cold and bitten by frost,
For hiding your wounds in snow,
The sun burning flowers of dust.

Submitted: Thursday, April 05, 2007
Edited: Thursday, February 10, 2011
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