Wasted Petals on the War of the Roses

Wasted Petals on the War of the Roses

written by: Lei Writses

White as the stratum clouds are its petals—
Which rose mirrors the castle house of York—
It was sunny when Richard the Third spoke,
At the garden of the Inns of Temple,
That the English kings declared a battle,
He came across the King’s, after a walk;

But O Greed! Greed! Greed, it cannot be cured!

Somerset, Henry the Sixth’s advisor,
Plucked a rose, as red as the royal blood,
From the bush of London, saying once more:
“Let all of my party wear this flower,”
Which to ‘present the house of Lancaster.

But O Greed! Greed! Greed, it cannot be cured!

Fourteen-fifty-five had all this started,
War of the Roses which we are to call,
Both of Royal, born of the same descent:
King Henry Plantagenet the Second,
Who sired two sons to become the worst kings:
Richard the Lion-heart and John of Gaunt;
One shall born a son for the House of York,
The other for the House of Lancaster.

But O Greed! Greed! Greed, it cannot be cured!

O, two roses of different colors,
What a shame it is to waste thy petals,
You, who both rooted from the same garden,
Both a fool to kill each other with thorns;
But O Greed! Greed! Greed, it cannot be cured;

Whose father, ’tis red, who usurped the crown,
And the right one to chase it for Honor,
But O Greed! Greed! Greed, it cannot be cured;
The latter house won’t yield the throne easy,
So on and on the war of roses went.

‘Til the great founder of Tudor was born:
Henry the Seventh defeated them all,
And the royal illness, Greed, was lessen,
From Richard the Third to his impostors:
Lord Lovell, Lambert Simnel, and Warbeck;

And the royal illness, Greed, was lessen!

All thanks be to the pureblood King Henry,
Descended from both York and Lancaster
And who gives a twenty-four years of peace;
For him—no more petals were wasted on,
As he ended the War of the Roses.

And the royal illness, Greed, was lessen!

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Lei Writses

I was born in Cebu City, was raised in the municipality of Argao, and write under the Pseudonym 'Lei Writses'. The pen name should be 'Lei Writes', or 'Lei Scrittore' (which means 'She Writes') as I love the language Italian, but due to some typographical errors, I mistakenly typed 'Writses' instead of Writes. Soon enough, I started to love how it rolls in my tongue and that's how the history was made. Some people who graduated from secondary school have two options: to proceed to college or work to earn; I have three, and I chose to stay at home and write poems. I have been composing poems for nine years, starting from when I was ten years old. But, all of the poems I wrote then were washed off during the Hurricane Haiyan. Now, I have been able to compose 200 sonnets for 200 days straight, and am still working on another 165 to complete a promise to myself. I also wrote a number of short stories, villaneles, sestinas, and many other forms of poetry. Poetry, to me, is not just a hobby. It is by far the greatest love of my life, and I am more than happy to share my love for it with everyone, and inspire people from all walks of life.

Latest posts by Lei Writses (see all)

• Wasted Petals on the War of the Roses - February 6, 2023
• Illusion - September 15, 2022
• Life Begins When One Ends - June 10, 2022