Tiller Of Heart's Soil Poem by soren Barrett
Tiller Of Heart's Soil
A firm hand bleeds on bristle deeds horns of a crime now stale
From doubts seeds grow thistle weeds, thorns to tear hope's veil
Red stains on martyr fingers lingers pulling strangling plants
Soil wet with blood and sweat from a savior in farmer's pants
Crucified on his hoe so plants will grow in earth broken
His word unheard in dust interred, torn lost in the unspoken
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1/11/2026 3:14:15 AM # 1.0.0
