Poem: Roots of Rust

The world is bent with broken laws,
With hands that steal and twist the cause,
Where power feeds on hollow praise,
And truth is buried in the haze.

The towers rise on backs bowed low,
While shadows trade in silent woe.
The deeper down the roots have grown,
The more the rot becomes the throne.

But healing starts where eyes can see
Not just the pain — but who we be.
It starts in hearts that will not sell
Their soul for gold, nor truth for spell.

It rises up in acts unbought,
In whispered no’s, in stubborn thought.
It blooms where justice dares to stand
Without a bribe in outstretched hand.

To cleanse the deep, we must go deep—
Where silence hides what tyrants keep.
Expose the wound, unmask the lie,
And let the reckoning purify.

Not with revenge or sharpened blade,
But with the light that will not fade—
The courage passed from soul to soul,
To mend the cracks, to make us whole.

So dig the roots, tear down the mask,
Rebuild with truth—this is the task.
For healing grows when brave hearts stay
And choose to forge a brighter way.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie