Cherry Blossoms

On a bluish-white moonlit night,
Pink clouds float around branches,
Tiny dainty petals fall from trees,
Dancing in the spring breeze,
Like small fragments of tinted light,
Flickering in the air,

The earth is covered,
By a velvety blanket of pale roseate,
Soft as silk but more delicate and ephemeral,
The lively pastel is a symbol,
Of the end of the long cold, gray winter,
A mark of a new bright, hopeful beginning,

Hidden under the ethereal beauty of the blossoms,
A dreadful secret leaks its stench,
Cherry blossoms were once snow white,
A pure, untainted, shade of newly fallen snow,
Until the day,
They discovered the relish of the bodies,
Buried in the damp, cold soil under them.

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