Toxins in the soil: A poem 

Travelled the winding, tortuous roads, resentful of beaten paths 

Forests of dreams gone past, the cities have broken carts 

The meadows and fields are rife with promises stuck in their guts 

The world of yonder darkens in the horizon of ifs and buts 

Problems can be broken down, but solutions are hard to come by 

Ruthless hearts know humanity’s threads, in knots, that they tie 

Even innocence can commit crimes, so even innocence must die 

When history keeps repeating itself, it’s truth that is defied 

Hope’s cartilage is dislocated, valiant lions rue their toil 

The wage for petals of convictions is toxins in the soil 

Can the kitchen be graceful with murky waters on the boil? 

If we were endowed with the wisdom of saints, would sanity recoil? 

There’s a burden on Thy shoulders, an avalanche of rolling boulders 

Have Thee ignored Thy goodness, snubbed Thy wounded soldiers? 

I have taken all Thy outcomes with a pinch of ground salt 

O God, how would Thee like it, if justice came to a halt?