The Book the Day Of The Hidden Truth Poems Is Written In Memoriam To Martin Freier

From the poem that Martin Freier wrote, Hate
Like a brush fire
That never ends, ‘hate’ just spreads
Throughout the neighborhood,
Though it does little good.
In its wake, hate keeps burning,
Always churning,
And using everything that is good
For fodder and food.
Fanned by the winds from the Northeast,
Hate breeds hate
Among those that are blessed
And those that are cursed by fate.
When people are fighting
In its presence,
hate is winning,
By piling lies upon lies
While love is dying,
No one who is in its path
Can escape hate’s wrath.
It sets friend against friend
Until it achieves its malicious end.