A Bride In A Shroud Poem by Lara Valquez

The blood of the innocent
pours like rivers to the sky—
each drop a shattered story,
a life erased, a silence screamed.

Gold slips through trembling hands,
cold hearts blind to broken cries,
they gamble with shining coins,
betting souls on lies and silence.

Rose petals blacken beneath the shroud,
wet with tears that freeze at dawn.
The valley watches, veiled in snow,
laden with centuries of grief—
the old remember
the theft of smiles,
brave lights erased,
painted in a river of blood
on a sunny day.