All the little lights

The tree

I see the seed of evil
Split and root the ground
And hold the beauty like a weed
Where wicked wasps are found

I see the roots of malice
That grow above the earth
That ogle at the peaceful ones
And force a judge of worth

I see the stem of sorrow
Grow forth from the wicked seed
That smiles when it barbs the truth
And makes the kindness bleed

I see the branches made from lies
That poison valor's mind
With vile whispers full of grief
To leave the light behind

I see the bark upon the tree
That sprung from the wretched seed
That tastes of comforts so divine
The rest brings sorest need

I see the leaves which grew from pain
For many bitter years
That now grow not upon one's hurt
But rather, on their fears

I see the glory of this tree
Which now is fully grown
It's fruit bears knowledge of the truth
That's best left remain unknown