Plow not nor plant this arid mound.
Here is no sap for seed,
No ferment for your need–
Ungrateful ground!
No sun can warm this spot
God has forgot;
No rain can penetrate
Its barren slate.
Demonic winds blow last year’s stubble
From its hard slope.
Go, leave the hopeless without hope;
Spare your trouble.
(Jean Starr Untermeyer)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Hope PoemsBased on Keywords: demonic