Pure elements are eternal: A poem 

There’s innocent’s blood, not water, in the pan 

But the fire, beneath, blesses the selfless hand 

It is the selfish who can’t take adversities skin-tan, 

though the brave may be restrained from finishing what they began 

The earth has its story buried under its stones 

If you think it lived alone, before was also borne 

A spirit moves the universe of fire and soil 

It always began and is eternal burning oil 

They can rule the world with misbegotten power 

Men are not cut to be God’s eternal flower 

The wind of creation has an aura, not seasonal fruit 

It is the thieves of evil who stole all the loot 

Earth, wind and fire are all patient for reunion 

The shallow and deep have tried to hijack the communion 

Justice can’t be withheld, even if it can’t win the race 

Retribution to the wicked comes at its own pace