It Crushes our Sins

by David Baresch

He paid for a mansion, he tarred the garden,
He turned it into a tennis court,
But that knife of grass, it severed its way,
It split that tar, it reached for the stars.

He sent for his hacks, maintenance hacks,
"Get rid of that grass! Repair those cracks!"
But time passed, the blades broke through,
They greened a world of a sky, ice blue.

Years passed, the lord aged,
These were now his wintery days,
So, he rested with tomes in his study room,
And he read of a world choking with doom.

And out from his window he looked and he saw,
The shadow of tar laid bare no more,
Verdure grew, foliage swayed,
As emerald freed from its chemical grave.

"Nature wins," whispered the lord,
His tone now weighty with grim,
"It dances with winds, pure air it brings,
It crushes humanity's deadliest sins."