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Labans (m)
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In the storm
Stands the white rose
tumultuous waves
of destruction abound her
Yet tall is the white rose
strong in the face
Of the sensed doom around her
And she does not bow down
Pure is the white rose
In the compost earth
growing eternal strength
in the nights that so hurt
I see not the white rose
She is so far away
But I long to protect her
But only the words can I say
So I send her my words
And my poets heart
To help her when
there is hope to see her through
Be Strong little flower
Your heart will guide true
And as long as you want
I will always talk to you
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