Villanelle

Rise

Rise, it's no longer time to bow your head,
Do not lose yourself in what's now shattered,
Build monuments atop that which is dead.

If willows burn, there place a flowerbed.
Weep not long for the ashes that scattered.
Rise, it's no longer time to bow your head.

From bleeding corpse, the earth and small are fed.
From death to life, its cold image flattered.
Build monuments atop that which is dead.

Leave weakness behind, build strength in its stead.
Resign not to remain stale and battered.
Rise, it's no longer time to bow your head.

Atop ruined civilizations, new ones bred,
Then build upon the feats the old had gathered.
Build monuments on atop that which is dead.

Let mourning come then pass, and tears be shed,
Then do not linger on what once mattered.
Rise, it's no longer time to bow your head,
Build monuments atop that which is dead.