It flitters gently through the breeze
A cheery crimson beacon
Flowing in the wind
Its vibrant current
A ribbon 'cross the sky

But surely-
It can't mean that
For I know of its true heart
Why, you ask
Does it hold such colors red?
Well, I know why...

Its secrets deep
Kept within the groves
The carnage dripping caverns
Dank with all the sorrow
Internal lakes erupt with blood
The scarlet sores of those it touched
Those it brushed with toxic fabric

The scented wisps waft by
Again with power strong
Whipping past in violent form
So they might be avenged
To sear that crimson beacon
A reminder of the deaths
The deceased so martyred
By its impaling, poisoned tip
Now stained with all their souls

So next you see that streak
So swelling through the Heavens
Don't make that same mistake-
As I did-
And so many long before
Don't trust its beckoning advances
For who trusts a sopping, reddened gravesite
That bears so many tombs?