The Berry Fields (A Poem)

Beneath a sweltering sun

Amid the fanatical shun

The berry fields give forth their bounty of hate.

 

Locked away from her children

At the mercy of submission’s men

Asia suffers for the ghosts of ideology.

 

Through my good days and bad

Though I’ve been happy and sad

I’ve never had a thirst that put my life at risk.

 

Every prophet and saint

Carries the same taint

Bloodlust and politics to force their authority.

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