Division

It was spring!
And flowers were all in bloom,
when a border they raised, splitting a state
and left everyone in gloom.

For the difference of creed,
much blood they spilled,
they milled around and blindly killed,
crashing every trust to doom.

Much water has flown down the rivers,
many seasons of thoughts have changed.
Can joys of council, now autumn ever-bring,
to those who wildly were parted in spring?