Accumulation Poem by Christian Thomas Scott

When the fabrications who sweetly sing,
Along the road, washed free of sorrow,
Now detain forthright the murmurs we bring,
To seize with a work of will and woe.
But hatred flees from the sightful places,
To grow and fester in the guarded cell,
Hushed by a blessing and a promise disgraced,
Like a fatherless curse from the depths of hell.
Shall I weigh on the hearts of the wicked?
Shall I sail on the storm of distressing?
Our pillar in the midst of chaos is stricken,
By immaculate deeds in beginning.
Let fire be ripe in the desert again,
Lest give way to calamity's end.