Brothers

Into harsh terrain they ventured, From drainage to a marsh. Healthy brothers suddenly died, By an unknown deed. Saints went to hell, For the land disliked them. Desperate for what to tell guardians, Anger was the seed that was planted, Roots began to grow, Where provoking and poking were the fruit it bore. Those who had never spoken ill, Now found life to be hard. But walls have ears, They hear all conspiracies whispered.