The Sower

Samer Amin

 

 

 

 

What is wrong with you Power of Darkness, what is the matter with you? Why are you talking so boastfully, as if this world belongs to you?

 

 

 

Do you boast your scary darkness, as if the upcoming comforting dawn is not on its way towards you?

 

 

 

Do you boast withering tender green shoots, as if the upcoming spring is not on its way towards you?

 

 

 

Do you boast your desperation's fatal blows, as if the resilient hearts will not deal back resistance blows towards you?

 

 

 

Do you boast your fantastic narcissistic gardens, as if the altruistic storms are not on their way towards you?

 

 

 

Do you boast uprooting innocent dreams, as if the Sower is not sowing hopeful dreams everywhere against you?

 

 

 

Do you boast terrorizing vulnerable children, as if the inevitable upcoming judgment is not on its way towards you?

 

 

 

What is wrong with you Power of Darkness, what is the matter with you? Why are you talking so boastfully, as if this world belongs to you?

 

 

  • Author: Samer Amin (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 18th, 2021 00:24
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 20
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments1

  • orchidee

    Good write Samer.
    It seems good and bad seeds - wheat and weeds - will grow together until the end of earthly time.
    The weeds are allowed to remain, in case any of the wheat gets pulled up, if all is harvested right now.

    • Samer Amin

      Thank you so much for expanding on this point. That's very true.

      This parable is extremely important, because it illustrates why the weeds are allowed to remain until the harvest time, and also the huge characteristic difference between the receivers of these seeds.

      • orchidee

        Yes - the weeds have 'grace', as it's too risky in the parable to harvest everything now.
        And from a harvest hymn, rather terrifying words for the wicked: 'Give His angels charge at last / In the fire the tares (weeds) to cast'. Tares look like wheat, it seems. I Googled that bit!



      To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.