Crimson Petals by Mike Williams 9/2/2015 @ 9:23 A.M.

Beneath the crimson petals bloom. 
A thorn that pricks unyeilding doom. 
Verdant with it's mantle red. 
Concealing sinister barbs which bled. 

The hand that grasps at justice's pride. 
Finds no solice there where truth denied. 
Great judges all tend a bitter weed. 
Choke the mind and liberty's seed. 

How corruption cut innocence by assail. 
Turned deaf ears and tipped the scale. 
And planted roses in it's garden. 
Where men can't see how hearts have hardened. 

Lay the lives of saddened waste. 
Captive behind bars and iron gates. 
Long the sorrowful blade turned rows. 
Where the crimson petal grows.