*SONG* The Rebel Yell by Billy Idol

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdphvuyaV_I

The haunting senses…
The mood, the feeling in the air…
Change is coming…something big…
A storm is coming…
They’re coming…They’re coming…

You wake up…you sense the day
You get through it…you rest, you go to sleep…

You do it all over again…
Days, weeks, months…years…
Some see the signs every day…
While some nothing at all.
The bottom line is the world has to change…
That’s not an opinion.

50 years ago, 20 years ago…What were you doing?
How was the weather?
What was outside your window?
What was on the news?

And now…The weather, world events…
Technology…Survival, cravings, demands…
Convenience verses desire…
Entertainment, computers, cell phones…
Web searches…Blogs…Texting, sexting…
Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong at all.
All it takes is lots of love and light
And nothing is wrong at all…

Who would raise their hand and say that’s
Nonsense? Who would say that’s complete bullshit?
I’ve known too many people who have given
Up…for the dumbest reasons.
That has to stop.

In all that I have chased, everything that
Was done was to try to make sure it never
Happens again…
Some people don’t believe my experiences,
That’s fine, because I wish they didn’t happen
Either. All I ever wanted to do was hide.
I understand everyone is struggling,
Suffering…wanting answers…

All that I can do is offer the best work
I can do…to share it in the hopes that…
Why they asked me to do it…helps someone,
Somehow. I can’t make them step
Forward and do anything…This is all that
I can do right now.
It frustrates me but I said I would do it,
So…here it is…

Beneath the golden light, her auburn hair
Held back and up with curls like a
Crown…cascading down her shoulders and
Back…Those fiery eyes, like a cat’s…They
Glow, glare, growl…Framed with bladed
Lashes…wicked brilliant eyebrows…
Her face, artwork…Her manner so
Strong it could break a queen…
“Make them feel it,” Rana said…
Ordered. “Say it…Keep telling it…
Lest history repeat itself…again. There
Is too much at stake anymore…So when
It happens…They won’t have excuses
For the shock…They will still ask why,
Fools always do…But pray for hope
That some will remember a story told…
And recall a magic moment that will save
Their life…or keep their fire burning…
Now,” she pointed to the notebook, “On
With the story…The Starchild’s road to
Rome…”

Back…Far and into a lost time…
His mysterious voice and mind
From the Watcher’s post told the story…

From the ravaged village…in the land of Britain
Where the starchild legacy began…
Isola and Liam had escaped
By grandmother’s magic request…
If only all in the village could have been
Spared…but no one listened…
No one ever listened…until it was too late…

The Romans came…by battle cry
Through the wood at midday…
Clothed in metal and hoods of steel,
They crashed upon a helplessly
Blind village…and conquered, captured it
In minutes…
They slew all those with grey hair
And all children below waist high…
No need for them, too weak…
A waste of time…
The men, today considered still boys,
Were beaten, chained and spirit broken
Down…
The women and girls, tortured, beaten, raped
And broken then chained…
The Romans’ plan was evil yet simple…
Merciless and flawless…
Those that fell in between category…
The young boys were chained for multi-purposes…
This was their policy for capture,
For conquering and slavery…
It was how they cleared the land
And instilled their fearful reputation…
All to spread an empire…

At least half fell dead in this onslaught…
Wherever they went…
The only exception were treasure slaves…
Those of which were considered prize capture…
The beautiful…those with face, eyes or
Hair they could molest and adore…
And in some circumstances the men of
Admirable fight and strength…for the
Games of the city…bloodsports to entertain
The citizens…
Games that defied reason, dignity or virtue,
Embraced pain and humiliation…
That embodied the power of Rome…

On the day many villages had been taken
Along the east of Britain…
The captured survivors gathered on and
In their shore camps, by their great
Sailing ships…to be rated of who was
Worthy to be taken as treasure slaves back home…
The starchild village was one of many,
But found all that survived worthy
To be taken…They were boarded onto the
Ships like cargo…packed full…
Denied any kindness or decency…
Some were naked, all were bloodied
And bruised…The crying and whimpering
Was deafening…
For who could stand against the mighty armored
Invaders? Nothing matched their swords or
Shields…No one knew their odd evil
Sounding language…Which to their ears
Echoed of something inhuman and dark…
Almost…not of this world?

But, there were a few among the Romans…
Men dressed unlike the rest…They wore
Clothes like the locals…and spoke both
Native and Roman tongue…
Spies sent to scout and learn the land
They wanted ahead…They were clever
And devilish, the worst by far because
They smiled with delight at the success
Of the defeat and enjoyed every
Moment of the slaves suffering…
Yes, they were the worst of all…
These few divided the people…rated them…
And likewise ordered the deaths of
Anyone not worthy of whatever fate
They planned…perhaps death was the
Greater, kinder option this way…

By the end of the day the ships
Were loaded with human cargo…
Then departed for their homeland…
The remaining Romans would rest and
Wait in their shore camps until more
Ships arrived…with re-enforcements…
More soldiers, more weapons and horses…
More supplies such as food livestock…
This was how it worked…and went on…
For years…decades…centuries…
That is until their plans rain into a…
Disruption…but that comes later…

The boats to Rome…The ride, the road…
Was even worse…
Overcrowded, wet and cold…starved…
The broken became more broken…
Spirits became numb…sickness fell…
On board the vessels was always at least
One man, un-uniformed solider who
Spoke their language…The one without a soul…
This is the one who would deliver the
Cargo home…manage human livestock…
And offer cruel lessons in teaching them
The Roman language by any means he
Sought fit…

Only simple things of words were taught…
Yes, no…The words to obey…
Food, water…Do and don’t…Move…
That was all that was necessary…
The rest they could learn on their own…
If they wanted to live long…
Slavery was not a promising life…
Not for those captured…
It was merely human livestock…
Food for pleasure, entertainment…
Or humiliation, by far the worst…
In other words slavery meant you
Were but nothing other then what
The slavemaster said…life had no other
Meaning…And the only reason it worked
At all, this diabolic human trade,
Was because they were given no time to think…
Hesitation…think about it.

That first night…on the ship
Where the Starchild’s villagers cowered
In chains below deck…together with
A few other clan’s peoples…There were no
Dreams or sleep…only the wayward
Rocking of the boat…And the howling
Laughter of the soul-less Romans that
Tramped the decks above…
Drunk, drinking their party of victory…
Of new slaves…new toys to play with…

And although the new slaves did not know
The Roman language, they sensed the
Meaning in their tones…
The fair skinned women…That red hair!
The blue, the green eyes…
The treats of that golden hair…
The brute young men who would serve as
Sport to humiliate in their blood games…
Slaves to be fed or mauled by beasts
In arenas…for entertainment…
Just to see what would happen…
Morbid curiosity turned into playful moments
For arrogant careless minds.
To judge, humiliate and torture
The weak to entertain the rich,
The strong, those in power…Laughter…
That’s entertainment…in Rome…
Has that changed at all?

Still there was one rule for the journey…
Try to make the cargo survive the ride home…
If the soldiers became bored…
Or hungry for wanton pleasures…
They reserved a special cargo…
The young boys, those not of age to be men…
Taller than infants…yet fresh enough
In face and body to but resemble
Something they could play with without
Feeling conscience at all of their actions…
I should not have to elaborate what
That means…

Sometime after twilight…when the
Heavy drinking began…The devil-Roman
In plain clothes who spoke their
Language…came below deck with
A soldier…looking for something to play with.
He quickly pointed to three young
Boys huddled together closely in the
Corner…All were the same age, 10, 11…

It wasn’t in the words, it was in
Their faces…whatever they wanted…
It frightened them.
The soldier grabbed the three of them easily
By their heads, their hair, and dragged
Them to the deck above…
Where a cluster of a dozen soldiers
Eagerly awaited their games of the night.

Buck, the youngest at 10, stood shaking
With the boys…he and his brother Leif, 11,
Were of the Starchild village…
Buck held the greatest senses…The gifts
Of his people…He fought to control his
Senses as the Roman soldiers sized the
Boys up and down…For what they had
No idea…

The air was thick and foggy…
And the boat rocked on an unsteady sea…
The Roman soldiers grabbed the first boy,
He was 11, from another village they
Didn’t know…He screamed and cried
In terror as they poked and pawed him,
Tearing at his clothes…

Buck and his brother watched in horror…
As the soldiers…began…their play…
It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real…
What they watched and saw…
It was a nightmare…so fitting for the
Late hour of night in the fog…
But what they did to the boy…
Those Roman soldiers…What was wrong
With these people? They enjoyed it…
The boy screamed, howled with teary
Cheeks with every touch…and the
Soldiers only laughed…Then the boy’s cries
Became too unsettling…so they started
Beating him to be quiet…This went on
For…what seemed forever…Until the
Rough play silenced the boy…permanently…
Disappointed, one soldier grabbed the
Boy’s lifeless body and tossed it into the sea…

Next…they greedily grabbed his brother…
This time the play was worse…The
Soldiers craved to see his blood and fear…
With their carnal games…And all he
Could do was watch his once innocent
Eyed golden haired brother was quickly
Rammed and squeezed to death…
And then his body too, was thrown over the
Side into the ocean…only blood stains
Remained…

And then little Buck was the only one left…
His light brown hair, and big blue glassy eyes…
He stood shaking beyond control, crying,
Pleading with his eyes for the men not to…
But these soldiers bore no guilt of emotion…
It was if their armor shielded them
From all feeling…And they surrounded
Him laughing…They were saving him for
Last…One grizzly looking soldier leaned
And shouted words of anger into his face…
The fear…of those expressions…Their anger…
Those words yelled in a foreign language,
So frightening…more so because he didn’t know
What they were saying; would he want to?
He kept begging, “Please, I don’t know
Why…Please don’t hurt me, please don’t
Hurt me…Somebody…Please somebody help
Me Please…”
Cries that would forever echo through time…
Repeated in desperation…cursed pleas…
Buck cried them over and over…
The men only laughed and poked at him
With sticks, staffs…tearing at his clothing
As they circled him…
They kicked and punched at the sight
Of bare skin…
Growling foreign Roman words…
Buck screamed and cried louder…
His cries of torture, a voice of agony to the
People below deck…
What was wrong with these people??

Then the moment came when the men could
Not wait…Two began to hold him against
A crate…When the sky began to flash wild
With lightning…and the Echoes of Thunder…
The sea rolled more heavily…Then the boat
Was suddenly slammed, shaken by
Something huge and invisible in the water…
Then again and again…
What was it? The Romans took pause,
Unnerved to look and see…
Killer whales had slammed the boat…
For some odd reason?

The sky flashed with lightning…
The sounds of rolling thunder…The men
Lost grip of Buck, and without thinking
The little boy found will and nerve to
Leap bolt and jump over the railing
Blindly into the sea…preferring the fate
Of the dark water to that of the Roman
Soldiers…
He plunged into icy water…The waves…
The winds howling…tossed upon a churning
Sea the boat vanished quickly into the
Fog…And Buck was but a tiny toy
In the watery darkness…

He couldn’t think, only felt the sting
Of freezing heavy water up to his neck…
He tried to swim by his thrashing his legs
And arms, it was pointless…
Then mysteriously…he felt something in
The water moving around him…he was
Gently bumped…pushed…by some creature
Of the depths…Then he saw triangular fins
Break the surface near him, barely visible
In the dark…Whatever it was kept
Pushing him as he fought to stay afloat…
To stay awake as the freezing cold took his
Strength…
The bumping…The pushing…He had
No idea what it was? But he was too out of
His mind to reason as everything of sight
And sound faded…
Then the Siren’s song took over…
Guided by afar…Telling the dolphins
To push the boy carefully to shore…
Quickly…carefully…as soon as possible…
The sea very quickly calmed down…
How could this happen?
And the dolphins swiftly maneuvered
The little boy to the nearby shore…
Where he finally found surviving
Breath on the shores of France.

Finally the night brought peace for Buck…
He slept deeply…And the air became
Kinder…and the stars appeared…
Then dreams filled his head…of some far
Off place…Another time, another world he
Would one day see…Where friends would fill
His life…and justice would change the world…
A mysterious beautiful golden haired lady
Told him this…As she vowed to forever
Follow his life…
The dream sang to him, gave his small body a
Fiery spark to survive…so when morning
Came he found this odd rejuvenated strength…
And a magic that filled his blood.

He staggered down the beach at dawn
Trying to regain his wits and a plan as
The wind blew…His instincts alive…
Find water and food…Then find out where he was.
Was anything easy?
But he knew the ways of hunters, from
What his father and the villagers taught him.
Study the sky…Follow the birds…watch
Where they go…Even so close to the sea,
The birds could see and would lead him
To fresh water…

As he trekked inland over sand dunes into
Tall meadows and woods it became
Clear he was nowhere near home.
He recognized nothing! Not even the
Birds…Where was he?
When he finally found a pond of fresh water
He swallowed greedily, only to have
His strained peace broken by
Familiar foreign cries…The echoes of
Romans were in the woods!
Were these Romans everywhere?

Buck deftly moved through the woods
Invisible, scouting for the source of the
Romans…They were there, a large
Encampment…too many to count, the
Metal clothed monsters…
He barely had time to react when
Something struck a blow to his head from behind…
A Roman scout had found him…
Then dragged the boy back to camp…

The world was blurry…All sounds
Indefinable…He heard foreign tongues
Yell in all sorts of ways as he was
Brought to their camp…
The swirling visions of those tanned skin
Faces; they were not pale skin at all…
There were angry sarcastic words…
Grim taunts…Cheers…Then that
Awful wicked laughter of theirs…
The worst sound he had ever heard…
The joyful sounds of demons in flesh bodies
Scheming things no one should know.

He was thrown to the ground hard near
A large tent; the commander’s.
A man of taller standing appeared to
Study the boy…
Through double vision all their faces
Were only shades of humans…As the commander
Yelled and pointed at him…
Cheers and that wicked laughter filled the air…
Something inside him exploded,
Then Buck sprang to race and crawl
Across the ground…Where he only
Fumbled into a line of tethered
Beasts nearby…Horses…

A great black horse stomped the
Ground before him…lowered its head
And sniffed Buck…It was huge, big eyes…
It was surreal…
The Romans yelled…cheered, that awful laugh…
Then the wind blew…
Whistling filled the air, a song…
The horses perked their ears, twitched
As they heard the Siren’s song…
Then all hell broke loose…
A soldier tried to grab the boy…
The black horse reared and struck
The Roman down with its front swatting legs…
Then al the horses reared and kicked
And neighed and cried…
Buck again somehow, by fueled fear,
Exploded into a run for the woods…
As the horses broke free from their lines
And stampeded chaos through the
Roman camp…going every which
Way, so that the brave soldiers
Could only duck for cover…
The horses seized and slammed
Anything that stood in their way
Only to have
Their masters chase them…

It was a sight to see…
As if a Mother of Nature were
Laughing somewhere…It was the animals
That would own the day.
And her song was strong as she told Buck to run…
He raced through the woods aimlessly…
Half a dozen Roman’s chasing him…
But it was not their time to win…
The power filled him…Run Buck, run…Run…Run…Run…
The wind rose through the woods as the
Little boy ran…Everything seemed to
Come alive…The birds, the animals,
Everything in the trees chattering with
Excitement…by command of the Siren’s song
Then the sky grew dark…
The thunder echoed…And the howls
Of the wolves came…But they were of
No native howl to those woods or
Any other…something more of spirit
Were these wolves…and they were hungry
To teach sharp lessons.

Buck ran and ran, no idea where he was…
Or running to…only knowing he had to get
Far away from those Romans…
No time to think…only feel…
Tears streamed down his face as he panted…
The sky grew darker, and although it was
Near noon-day…it might as well have been
Night by the storm clouds…
Cries of angry pursuit of the Romans filled
The air...the very sound of them striking
Terror…panic…desperation…

Thunder sounded, but without rain…
Only mind…Howling wind…with those strange
Wolf howls within it…fortifying it somehow…
Then, all strength gone…Buck crashed
To the ground before an ancient towering
Tree…He fought to move but could only breathe…
The Romans calls grew closer…
The howls of the wolves echoed…
He crawled and covered up against
And hugged the mighty tree…
Whispering pleas to the Heavens for help…
Someone was in fact listening…

The sights, sounds…the secret magic
Moment of time…As the Roman soldiers
Appeared in view of the woods, they found him.
An elemental force in an unstoppable force of rage
Filled nature…through the animals…
As the lead soldier drew closer to him…
Very closely a wolf howled…
An owl’s cry resounded; a voice of magic…
The soldiers moved closer…
Ravens filled the air, darting, gliding
Between the trees…
But the soldiers ignored these signs of nature…
The lead soldier pointed angrily at the boy
With his sword…yelling foreign words, curses
Of the trouble the boy gave grief to them…

But the wild held the upper hand…
As the soldiers grew close to circle the boy…
Behind him, from behind his tree…
A great silvery wolf appeared…
Beautiful, fantastic in size and noble
Strong stance of a predator on four legs…
It seemed to appear fearlessly from nowhere…
It stood to face the Romans,
Eyes aglow burning orange-gold…
Not good or evil…But simply of primal law…
Then another wolf appeared, tawny…
Then another silver, another of reddish black
Mask and saddle coat…Then more and more…
Black ones, grey ones…golds…more silvers…
Until they were all around…

The Romans froze upon sight of the pack…
These monster wolves…
Suddenly their arrogant rage became
But weary trembling prey…
Six sworded men verses a horde of
Giant spirit wolves? Anything with a soul
Could sense the odds…
The little boy shook…completely paralyzed
By the scene…what was this…

The pack master, the silvery white one
Held its head low…eyes burning
Commanding silently…
And the pack complied without hesitation…
These wolves do not hesitate…
Wisdom, speed and sense are but one
With them…

Immediately the wolves raced, streaks of
Blurry furred forms filled the woods…
Darting amongst the trees, circling the
Armored men…
Swords of steel, armor? HA!
Toys to these wolves…
While the feeble witted men slowly
Attempted to seize aim around them…
The wolves commenced their attacks…
The seconds…One soldier fell, then two, three…
Throats torn apart, limbs ripped off
Blood and screams filled the air…
Only the silvery white wolf stood still…
Staring down the lead soldier…
Eyes to eyes…Mind to mind…
Don’t move, don’t think, don’t blink…
The spirit wolves were the police of
Nature…No mortal form defied this…

The birds of prey cried out…
They, the animals, all spirits of the woods
Were laughing then…
And finally the bloodied remains of
Five soldiers lay in pieces on the ground…
That took…perhaps a minute or two…
Drawn out only for fear effect…
The remaining cried in his tongue,
“These woods are possessed!”
The silvery wolf stared him down as if
To say… ‘You keep telling yourself that
Two legs…And tell that to ALL the two legs…’
The wolf seemed to grin with its sharp
Snout and ivory polished canine teeth…
The last Roman soldier turned to run…
Fleeing the forest for his life from
This supernatural confrontation…

And the pack leader allowed him to leave,
Wanting him scared out of his mind to
Tell all his fellow soldiers in terror what he
Saw…And if his people didn’t believe
Him, why the wolves would just do it again…
It was hardly an effort to them…

Once he was gone…the wind miraculously
Calmed…The skies turned to blue…
Birds chirped contentedly in the trees…
And little Buck was left hugging the
Tree…staring in fascination at the
Most magnificent silvery white wolf he
Had ever seen…

The boy’s mind…The wolf’s mind…
‘What are you?’ from Buck…
‘Of higher nature,’ of the wolf, ‘She called
Us…Here we are…’
‘She?’ from Buck
‘No name to you or this world.’ Said the wolf.
‘Just know she is with you. Her eyes
Are of nature. As we are its law.’
Little Buck cried…All that had happened
To him, the feelings, images filled his head,
He couldn’t fight it…it just came out…
The wolf sensed it all and understood…

‘Don’t worry little one…I, we…will
Find you a safe place to be…and safe
You will always be…’
The wolf sniffed and licked him, like
Some kind, gentler pet would do…
Then it sat beside to guard him so
The boy could rest…
‘When you are ready we’ll guide you
To water…something to eat…then to
That safe place…Now rest.’

They guided little Buck…Through an
Age-old France…to mountains…into
The lands of fierce Gauls…Where in
A safe mountain village the boy found
An adopted rest…with a new family…
In Germany…where, over time…a new
Lineage of the Starchild would grow and
Spread in strands through Eastern Europe…
Bearing fruit and secrets time would
Someday tell…Guess a bit on that.

Again…Depart…
From this tale to the ship of the Watchers…
Their post…
Apollo, Ceres, Camlo…on the bridge…
Sitting calmly, quietly in their seats…
At their individual view screens and posts…

Apollo sat tapping his finger in the
Captain’s seat…fighting both a laugh and
Scowl at the same time… “Ceres?”

“Yes?” She effortlessly answered never
Taking her eyes from her screen…

“Dare I need to remind you of what
Dorin said,” Apollo told her, “Of why we
Are…locked in upon this post? Forced to
Be held here?”

“I remember the Big Head, yes.” She calmly
Said in a melodic tone.

Camlo had to laugh at her comment as his
Eyes jumped among them.

Apollo struggled to form the words…
To reason a protest? “Where do I begin?
Whales? Dolphins?”

“They swim in the sea,” she only said, “This
You know.”

“And whales charge ships…on their own
Accord?” He asked her sternly.

“It could happen easily enough.” She said.

“And dolphins…since when do they
Appear to push a little boy to shore?” He
Asked…

“Ask a dolphin its own reasons,” Ceres
Laughed, “As if I should know why…
Curiosity?”

Apollo leaned forward…resting his
Elbow on his knee studying her casual
Demeanor. “Oh really? Since when?”

“Why don’t you go for a swim and
Ask them.” She said. “Ask a shark…
Or a whale. How should I know.”

“I can’t leave the ship, remember?”
He stated.

“Oh well then, it is a mystery of nature.”
She replied, her eyes rolling coyly about.
“Never to know the reasons of
Animals…Maybe dolphins will surprise
You from now on.”

“On their own of course.” He teased.

“Of course.” She said.

Apollo then leaned more heavily…watching
Her. “And I suppose then that…The
Horses once again found the mind and
Sense to stampede a Roman camp? To
Suddenly fight and kick, then kill the
Soldiers they were just afraid of?”

Ceres rolled her eyes. “Oh please,
You dramatize things. Stampede? They
Merely trotted through the camp by
Accident.” She half-laughed. “No one
Was killed on purpose…maimed yes…
A few were accidentally permanently
Damaged…And death came hours later…
Slowly…From poorly managed treatment.
Do not blame the horses…”

“Maimed?” Apollo laughed at her deductive
Reasoning. “Accidentally permanently damaged?”
He shook his head. “Poorly managed
Treatment caused their deaths? Their
Hooves flattened skulls!”

“They were hardly flattened!” Ceres said
Sarcastically, facing him. “Their skulls were
Fragile! It was just a dent!”

He bellowed laughter. “Your reasoning finds
Bolder purpose than mine!”

“It was an act of nature!” She said.

He laughed loud. “Nature? Nature if
But by an angry woman’s mind that
Talked to animals…So what then, the
Spirit wolves but suddenly appeared
Through a rain-less storm? To a world
They would have NEVER seen…on the
Far side of their universe?”

“It was just a suggestion.” Ceres told
Him flatly, never blinking once.

“You told them to come and slay those
Soldiers!” He shouted with a laugh, pointing
At her.

“I did not!”

“You did!” He said.

“I did not!” Ceres argued.

“Did!” Apollo pointed hard.

“Did not!” She persisted.

“You told them to shred them.” Apollo
Said. “I heard the echo of that Siren…
If you say…Play…I will call you a liar!”

“The wolves do not take orders,” Ceres
Strictly cornered him, “Not from me, nor
Anyone!”

That was true… “Still you imparted the idea.”
He told her.

She gently shook her head. “I merely
Whistled for them to come take a look…”

“To protect the little boy.” He smiled.

To that she offered no answer.

“Why now?” Apollo had to ask… “This
Civilization has been growing and spreading
For some time…This is their behavior. You
Bore no interest in them before…Why
This time?”

She held still…her eyes avoiding
His.

He thought quietly… “Ah…it is the
Starchild’s bloodline…That baby, the
One you cared for to defend!” He should
Have known…But then an intuition
Struck him…unlike ever before. “You
Know something. There is something you
Sense about this bloodline…unlike ever
Before…That’s why you do this!”

She remained silent…and he could
Not read more from her, he could only
Make deductions based upon her actions.

“What is it that you know?” He became
Very curious. “Please tell me?”

She sat still, lifted her head high to look
At him…some noble etheric sacrament.
There was a secret she knew…and
Would never tell. That was for the future
To know.

“You know I will find out,” he said,
“Eventually.”

“You may very will,” Ceres said to him,
“In time…Perhaps.”

Suddenly it struck him…Ceres had come
To Earth by no accident…beyond volunteer…
She was sent here…

Again…we take a step away…
These words to find your minds and ears…
Eyes…Wonder…
You always have to wonder to believe…
Please.

And again standing beneath the golden
Light…Rana stood there, amongst her
Sisters…Their plan commencing…

“I asked Ceres to make these closing
Words this time.” Rana said.

Ceres, golden and gleaming beneath the light
Stood like a virtuous glamorous titan…
“Words to give…I could say many
Things…What you know of me?
What you question, judge or doubt?
I don’t care…I watched the
Animals…And I would like to make
One clear point…As far as justice
Is concerned…When judging history…
Who suffered First? Who or what
Knew extinction First? If nature is
To decree a court of law…And decisions,
Arguments to be made…Whose cases
Will be pleaded First…Humans, or
Animals? Who will judge that? Who
Will be the jury? If the police
Are the Spirit Wolves…Who sits as judge?
Some mortal man? A Lion Man perhaps?
Think about it.”

Vala hummed… “A Horseman comes…”

Rana bid… “Farewell in Dreams…Listen.
Don’t Speak.”

Valiant
my artwork: Spirit (Timber) Wolf...

and Wolf