Hate Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Hate.

Hate, a seed we sow ourselves,
No beast or bird from forest delves
This bitter fruit. They fight to live,
But grudge and scorn, they do not give.

It's anger deep, a burning sting,
Disgust and fear on hateful wing.
It whispers lies, it blinds the eyes,
And paints the world in darkened skies.

From Old Norse 'hatr, ' a word so old,
A heavy story to be told.
Of fights and wars, and pain and strife,
Hate steals the joy from every life.

It builds up walls, it tears apart,
A twisted arrow through the heart.
A simple word, so quick to say,
But holds a darkness in its sway.

T.M.Solvang