Nothing makes sense.
Organizations attempt to make sense of it all.
The truth is, disorder is the status of reality.
Few will ever realize their goals because of this.
All will experience that which they fear the most.
In the end I will laugh as I lie hopeless, helpless and dying again.
Remember the shadows and curse the light.

I'll turn it all to art,
Every little part,
Soul heart happenstance.
Cannot remain the same.
Cause swallowing it all,
Will fill me with delight,
Turning the spinning fear,
Into clothes I wear.
Witness how suave I am,
A grounded formal star,
Speaking beyond those all around,
The cracked brittleness of awareness.

Happy Happy Happy
Sad       Sad      Sad
Why are you?
Why are you?
Don't be soo mad!

Normals cannot see hearts.
As we do outside form.
Taken apart to be remade.
Unknown is terrifying precisely because.
Required viewings will be forced upon us.
Always the same is never stressful,
Leave me by the lantern, please.

In the skull, light dwells.
Outside all is darkness.
A cloak that keeps them warm.
I shiver despite the heat.
A man smiles towards me.
I cannot see his face.

Bathe me in armor, bright as light.
Throw me into darkness, cold as regret.
Revel in triumph, you have won.
Shed not a tear, it must be done.

Everyone hears it,
Briefly before it all crumbles away.
Wet and dripping I retrieved.
Life from death with a hurried flicker.
I'm cursed with this perverted trick.
I can't bare to look at myself or it.
One side snickers at me through steel lips.
The other sings at me with an open mouth.
I see moths congregating above.
Will it swallow their light?

Relinquish ownership, the ring is flawed, unworthy.
Pass it on to that lesser man, it suits him well.
May it weigh him down, like all your baubles.
Useless trinkets, adorning your weary hands.
Testament to your folly, decisions better unmade.
They look back at you, your gaze is welcomed.
Revealing your true self, you like not what you see.
Your ugliness, the filth that fills you, is now somewhat concealed.
from the eyes that judge, the people who enable your greed.
they now view you more, as something they need.

Within infinite darkness a light can be found
Those that bask in it are cleansed
Their minds cleared of all doubt and resistance
They drink from life's chalice and are sated
Others despise them and scoff at the miracle
Many will fade to retrieve it, the light will be lost
Seized by force its power is faint
Set free it opens a gate to eternity
Won't you walk there with me?

She stirred from within Matthew's shadow.
Grasping Silence in one free hand.
Thinking of the consequences awaiting her if.
She used that power.
A company of spear-men.
Circling Toblin's convoy with keen edges in hand.
Would loose fierce rebuke if she were found.
Still alive.
Matthew clutched his chest and pulled down.
Just his stomach this time.
Could I spend the rest of our lives.
Wrapped in song sweetened by his thunder.
I'd part my clouds to let him in.

He meant well.
But aimed poorly.
That head of re-purposed iron.
Struck naught but air,
Beaconing a second strike,
To reach back came natural and true.
But blue was gloves upon hands ensnared by spear training.
Scented by wine.
They blocked in time to send.
Boy of hair tinted cherry red.
To his knees instead.

A divergence set us apart.
Matthew's hold loosened until.
He wasn't there anymore.
The crashing disturbance above.
Alerted me to the presence far too late.
A masked face with oval eyes.
Set on my vulnerabilities.
Came crashing down bathed in leaves.
Before reflex could oust me from capture.
His hands were there.
But my voice was not.

I dress myself alone and wanting.
In clothes that won't fit.
Thread-bare silk inlaid with vexing jewels.
Gathered from a higher realm.
Polished daily.
That gleam is fading along with me seized in its reflection.
I see a waif cursed with vision beyond common sight.
Wandering streets of ermine and sickly jade.
Unable to buy he seeks to pry value and sentimentality free from mundanity.
His device is crude and nearly broken.
The wrong tool for the job.
Those around fail to notice by their own choosing
I won't join Matthew just yet...
He died wanting for bread, begging me timidly to share a portion of his fear. His hands shook, clammy and fretful throughout his final ordeal. I bid him farewell and set him free from hunger. Succor never came from strangers, but it came from me for him on that day. That borrowed blade, Silence of song, embedded itself in his life and lingered there until it stood alone in that vacuous chamber. Breath vacated his gaunt body as if fleeing capture. I left him lying there gazing above for enlightenment that would never come, but was always there to see.

Long did we find ourselves partners in plight.
Carrying both silence and song with us.
We heard sweet lyrics sang by angels.
While silence filled our home, full of empty hands.
Behind fortress walls, we were protected from foreign invasion.
Yet unprotected were we all from misfortune.
Parents offered to war as sacrifices, crying out for justice.
They found only death, offered only tragedy.
Instead of the justice they promised to give.
They returned dishonored, dressed in shame and covered in woe.
Houses set upon higher ground.
Came before us bearing fruits of privilege.
Readily shed from branches grown unchecked.
Had it been geniune, it wouldn't of stopped at charity.
It would have continued onward, brave and unguarded against concerns of cost.
Homes and hearts provided keep minds and souls tethered much longer.
Than false pretenses and half-hearted succor.
If I grow up I will seek allegiance with the blades of silence.
For it was one of its members that came down to our level.
And offered us a sliver of hope cradled within an expression of generosity.
Nothing in return, only silence. Said the hooded person wearing silver myths upon his breast.
Silence of song was given to me by way of gentle force.
Though timid and wavering, my hands were persuaded to open of their own accord.
His warmth was a key, intrusive and welcomed, it opened my trust and left us both in awe.
Before he could vanish from our lives, a song began to play.
It was song that united the kingdom, kept solidarity from fraying at the fringes.
Those that wore Ermine and jade stopped to listen, held by hands of power and position.
We couldn't discern its meaning or intention, little did we know that our feelings of exclusion were actually gifts of freedom...
By the time our tongues were ready to question, he was set in motion away from us toward the sounds and crowds of oblivious listeners.
Flashes of steel flickered in front of captivated visages locked in controlled reveries.
Delusions of a place indistinguishable from paradise, shattered upon contact with reality.
Blood was set loose onto the streets, though the affected were grateful to be rid of it.
For it was pain that freed them from song.
It was House Horgrave that day that made attempt upon our sovereignty.
Their songs are composed in sin yet are performed in innocence.
The blades of silence seek an end to these malicious performances.

Sharin's troupe requested horses,
Were given destriers to ride back into serenity's dominion,
Sitting atop animals raised to believe in nothing yet die for everything,
Costly saddles lifted from slain foes, torn from stilled blue.
Brought images of black and red into tearful focus,
They are just orphans, abandoned by an uncaring world,
Why would Toblin want to despoil such temporary innocence?
They all came to a shared conclusion,
Suspected greedy gold enclosures, sought to capture her,
As she slept below the soil that was her's to give,
Restored and given back to destructive children, who'd broken all their toys.

Four wheels and one snake,
Rode ahead towards an already decided conversation,
Cornelius would resist at first, his logic clashing with mine,
His mind wet and delicious, his breeding second to none,
I can respect his skill and upbringing,
I'll even let him hold onto his choices, his honor and vision,
Of a better future for those serving under his hope,
An unblemished neck is something of an acquired taste,
I look forward to his love.

Doubt swarmed them, passing between their solidarity,
Rick didn't like the tone of things just beyond the next hill.
He'd grown acute to the scent of omens,
Told his horse to stop, kicking it to obey.
His brothers noticed his song's melody shift from behind.
A tune in his head kept his hands and feet empowered,
However they shook and fidgeted,
Anticipation brought anxiety over his heart,
Choking and bringing cold to its chambers.
Dungeon birth was his reality, a past best forgotten,
Never did he run or play unrestrained, bars were his friends,
He learnt to count them as people he could trust.
A flash of silver, its strength mythical,
Those hands cool and warm, eyes set on things yet unseen,
Rescued him from a dead woman's arms, those of his mother.
Inscriptions carved into his hands, written along his legs,
Cast onto both feet, glowed painfully, reminding him to stay present.
She needs me...

Paul turned to face his brother,
Rick returned his gaze, wiped his left eye,
A leather thumb hidden from everyone,
Picked up black pitch and vile sweat, staining it with liquid darkness.
Both saw what their tireless work, Sharin's charge had covered them in.
Dappled, dirt caked skin, a stench masked by noise,
War kept them too busy to bathe, song was like water now,
It was needed to sustain life.
Seven ways to continue dismounted to collect,
Together, around a stream.
John aimed to press further on, regardless,
Rick redrew his bowstring, kept it taut,
Paul stood beside Rick, his polearm planted firmly at Sharin's side,
Kevin thought it best to turn back, Albert plucked a string to his support,
As did Richard with his bow wearing a fresh layer of rosin,
Christopher's flute, seldom used was anything but resolute,
It played a solemn solo, saw no other course of action,
Sharin wasn't sleeping well today...

In the moment, inside her entitlement,
Andulan yawned mildly, keeping her wits about her,
Those draining her below stopped for a time.
Looking outside her faded glass window, behind purple drapes,
Drawn back to uncover why she was tired, morning was here,
Despite youth and stillness, she still bowed before forces,
Observed by common melodies, it was the life inside her,
Clawing at her insides, yearning for more blood that did it,
Be patient my dear, soon enough you'll be fed,
Castle Sanguinair is ripe with flesh and wine,
A color most divine.

Andulan was mildly surprised, rocked forward in her property,
Thoughts of concern briefly washed over her face, filling her with fright.
Six loyal snakes stopped in front of Sharin's adept, wielding song as weapons,
John instantly saw what the carriage before him represented, it was Toblin's transport.
After much song between them, the seven musicians rallied behind his cry,
This madness will go on no longer!
Swords dipped in granted blood, tinted green from lineage,
Coated them in deep, fearful respect.
Dating back to mankind's terrorized past,
Unsheathed themselves from leather length and raised a concerted answer,
To foolish devotion.
Though they wore blue upon gloves, dangling from their necks,
Opaque pendants attached to black thongs, swung back and forth,
As the force of movement, more severe in its intention than most men could muster,
Brought fearsome resistance before desperation,
They need our help, there must be survivors, there has to be...

A singing axe, fully endowed, eager to please,
Cleaved the carriage in half, splitting it through the top,
Loosed by a man's voice at full force,
Supported by a trilateral tree,
Joined at the trunk by a lyrical sword and reaching polearm,
They took a defensive stance, watched the enemy, expecting retaliation.
Andulan's snakes slithered forward, cutting through hymnal barriers,
Rick's archery felled two serpents before they could get very far,
John's protection came back quickly to send a blade soaked in misery meant for him,
At breath's distance, he heard nothing from this one, it was silent absent expression,
Venom drizzled down his axe's head, sliding down its body of worked wood,
John shook it loose and dug towards a spinning flow of blue, It was beside him before,
He could breathe again.

Wicked steel, green and deadly,
Chimed with disturbing rhythm,
John couldn't hear his thoughts, nor call upon song to aid him.
His voice was gone.
The other six performers stopped to witness a girl untouched by injury,
Emerge from the ruins of Toblin's carriage,
Seemingly unaware of the skirmish taking place,
Before her innocent, entitled eyes hidden behind a veil of lace held in place,
By a royal black coronet.

She had her subordinates step back a moment,
Sheathed their fangs and returned to her side,
It was unseemly to slay a foe without presenting an offer,
To stand at grace's side.
You did well, my entitlement has seen better days, I dare say it is beyond saving,
She spoke beyond her years, as if they were already acquainted.
Who are you? John boldly demanded,
I have no reason to answer that question, better that you remain ignorant,
Lest I become a monster.
I see you've been studying Sharin's songs for many years,
You're all quite good, spent your whole lives practicing no doubt,
I could use people of such talent under my wing for you see,
I have a stooge surplus.

Those two unblemished necks,
Now lay severed on the ground, mouths agape.
Beside ruins made ancient by the urgency of now.
They were worthless in life, now in death they are lifted liabilities,
Faces turned away from secret truths.
Andulan felt the vines quickening inside her, they were growing restless,
New blood stood before them, tantalizingly close and ready to be eaten,
Now now, don't get ahead of yourself,
She said while covering her stomach with one hand,
We wouldn't want to waste good stock.
These men deserve venom not death.

Joined by that dead queen.
Who shouldn't still be breathing.
Made Toblin uneasy and groping for a way.
To see her gaze turned from him.
Not enough room in this carriage I'm afraid.
His brain wanted him to say.
A cowardly misdirection sure to sever head and leave it dangling.
Above the recently resurrected House of Venom.
The loyal need fear no such poisons.
Toblin knew better.
Every man unwise enough to kiss those snakes.
Woke up powerless the next day.
His command seized by serpents swimming beneath the defenses.
He had built over a lifetime.

So, what will it be?
My humble street performers,
Educated in the musical arts by none other than Sharin herself,
Venom or Silence? Make your choice carefully.
Everyone stopped listening to the sound of silence all around them,
She granted them permission to think this over, after only being given license to listen.
Rick turned his bowstring slack, lowered its direction to the ground, cocked his head towards John.
Kevin reached for his mallet, prepared to strike his rune blade, but Paul stopped him,
Lent a hand to ask him to wait patiently,
A single misspent move,
Could prove disastrous,
These snakeshead aren't human,
They move quicker than agility enables other men.

Before John could answer,
Two dead snakes rose back to feet unaware of death's jurisdiction,
By all that is reasonable, this can't be happening,
They are immune to injury, impervious to damage.
Confidence wavered, his voice quavered,
As blue garments threaded gold as well,
Delicately removed twigs and leaves, taking great care,
To not appear inconvenienced in the slightest.
Were it not for my gift of silence upon these six loyal servants,
Your songs would surely crush them no contest, however as they now are,
No words can stop them, no matter how sweet or intentioned.

Rick walked back, trying not to shake,
His bones vibrated, his melodies became distorted,
Skipping beats once memorized and mastered,
Became difficult to piece together.
Rick had no choice but to use force of will,
To reinstate control over himself and his song,
I won't let fear smother me, gasp I will not,
Through present circumstance...

A musical note, high-pitched and heartfelt,
Rustled her dress, a patch of white above her most vital spot.
Pain pierced her, forcing out a broken, rasping cry.
A single bloodied arm, green and quivering, bent back to show,
An arrow meant for her.

Song is my choice, what say you brothers?
Rick reloaded his bow, nocked it back, aimed his next assualt,
He'd use symphony to set her free, see the girl released from silence,
Or cleanse her of the inner monster sullying her soul, plaguing her mind,
And crushing her heart.
John smiled, drew back his humming axe for more blows to come,
He rose his tenor to lift leaves and rocks, in clods and clumps,
Stealing foundation away from treacherous underbellies, slithering towards them,
Drawn fangs overflowing with venom, bringing the ground to a sizzle,
Rushed as a blurry confluence of approaching green, darting back and forth,
Paul removed his hand barring Kevin from impulse, allowing him to strike,
Delving into the allowance of angels.

Andulan's loyal snakes, chosen from noble bloodlines,
Didn't pay attention to the loss of her protection,
Hearing restored, voices reclaimed, allowed them to speak her name,
As a song previously written, played a record straight through two,
A green arrow with white wings traveled eagerly, banking around to catch another,
Paul's trident, charged forward alongside Kevin's lilting refrain.
He gave a wet surprise, red and pungent, filtering through dire fingers that trembled,
At the sight of its own blood, tinted green by another's legacy.
Kevin applied a different approach, introducing another snake to what it felt like,
To be made to feel completely helpless.
After slicing its arm off, sending it the earth below,
Kevin ****** his sword into its belly,
planted it into the ground, quickly draining it of,
A color most profane.

Christopher, Albert and Richard.
Opened their eyes to the sound of familiar melodies,
Nearing their proximity to reinforce their position,
Upon a realm of strife not of their world,
The three brothers never could stomach violence,
They shied away from arguments, loud voices scared them.
Rick placed his back against a tree, breathing sharply, asking Sharin for a refreshed quiver.
Andulan ordered her vassals to return to her side, come back at once,
This is an embarrassing sight, you are obviously outmatched.
Hard swallows signaled acquiescence that tasted bitter, unlike the wine they imagined,
Awaiting them should they survive.
John, Paul and Kevin stood fanned out at three points in front of Sharin's mobile tree,
Bearing apples for all to see.

Rick slung his bow over one shoulder,
Grabbed ahold of lower branches,
Providing a path to higher ground,
Enshrouded by leaves, bitten by toughened bark and plastered by scented pitch,
Rick felt himself flooded and stung by nature's presence, his own song was muffled,
By a song of verdant days spent running,
Through and through without a care,
Bringing youth's glow to bear,
Upon the stones of time.

From this vantage point he watched,
As that girl of thirteen years, changed into something odd,
A monster not of the present, but of the past,
Twisted by confusion and motivated by denial,
It wouldn't agree with anything outside itself, until it shared,
The silence within.

Andulan didn't want to, she,
Resisted at first, but the sight, the smells,
A color most divine, piqued her interest.
Sadistic joy given not chosen, caused her to laugh,
As vines wrapped around her choices, making decisions for her.
Prickling buds erupted from deep below, causing pain to pass over white skin,
Andulan clutched her arms together, left held right as both trembled.
She barred her teeth, felt them grind, heard them chatter.
As her ivy within, forced upon her by father.
Coiled around her person until she was replaced by a monster.
Bright green insults turned her mind ablaze as she realized her dress was now in tatters,
Torn apart by thorns sharp enough, to slice through flighted hides,
Bringing crash to tyranny,
Many Sharin's ago...

Toblin's mind shot him an image of what he'd do.
Before he actually did it.
Buckets of oil drowned what remained of Sharin's tear.
Her tear ducts were now thoroughly clogged beyond return.
Drumming fingers danced upon his leathery tunic.
It was Andulan, princess of lies wearing a human face.
If he turned from his conviction to see Sharin burn.
And faced her.
That snake would bite into his neck and fill his homeland.
With buckets of blood.

Andulan felt her anemia returning,
As huge serpents, thick as men's arms,
Slithered around her body as she knelt down low,
Holding her head to bring an end to the conscious nightmare,
Cringing through the agony building inside, becoming harder to manage,
That old temptation returned once more, action could express that which silence,
Held captive.
Rick tried to free her from monsterousness, guiding shafts towards her core melody,
But vines of metallic integrity deflected good intentions, breaking them upon ground.
Constriction tightened around her heart,
Until she couldn't breathe, didn't feel it anymore,
Held aloft by a direction she didn't want to take,
Andulan was returned to this world an emerald princess.

Those thick vines crept back into place,
Beneath their host, assimilated by flesh,
Once youthful and pure as white snow.
Though juvenile, she spoke and processed as an adult,
Walking towards six tearful performers,
Who'd just witnessed the death of a girl and subsequent transformation,
Into a heartless monster.
Repugnant trails of misery followed her, falling through torn sleeves,
Bruised skin from ordeals suffered years ago, clung to whitened remnants,
Her black coronet was still in place upon her head, unchanged and solid,
Blackest seal upon brightest mind.

Pity, I could've loved all of you,
It would've been unconditional,
But it has been decided, you shall all be made divine,
And added to my grace.
John was speechless, but he tugged at his collar to free his voice,
Paul lurched forward, flinched out of fear, he didn't want to **** a child,
It was beyond unethical, it was a sin without solution.
Still, he held his trident out in front of him, drawing a line in the sand.
Should she cross it, a hidden song would catch her, and he'd skewer her,
Until she stopped breathing.
Paul clicked his tongue every four seconds, did it without facing her,
It was a small song, broken and indistinct, but it would still work.

Rick whistled loud to his brothers,
Before letting fly with a volley,
Andulan's ivy turned into an umbrella above,
Blotting out the rain,
John struck her with his voice, emerald arms,
Appeared to absorb the force of voice,
That tore rock from earthy tombs below,
Slamming the youth with slabs of bedrock.
Andulan shrugged it off and glared at them,
Kevin and Paul charged forward, hollering with rage,
It masked the stench of fear.

With one hand pressed onto the ground,
Feeling earth with pulse, she filled soil with enmity.
Bringing rise to fields of quivering, thirsty green.
Tendrils excited to paint themselves red and drink of life,
Paul and Kevin thought inward, felt just outside their horizon,
Immediacy beyond breath.

Sharin taught them the ultimate defense,
Immediacy beyond breath,
Each brother of song, placed a hand over his core melody,
Felt the now manifesting itself with each beat, desired to hear it continue,
Existence itself has both a song, and a silence, if one listens carefully,
It is possible to read a song's structure and with that knowledge,
Its logical conclusion can be uncovered,
They bridged the gap between song and its silence,
To extend it and throw themselves into its inevitable encore,
Repeated as necessary...

Andulan was perplexed,
She was trying but they weren't dying,
I've never encountered song like this,
You seven are the real deal, not copies,
Like Toblin's, or should I say Prienne's,
Untalented singers, musicians and sycophants,
Stooges all, fit only to sate my unfortunate, burdensome thirst,
When I find it appropriate to become a monster, that is.
After much exercise, Andulan retracted her vines,
Those fields of green vanished into the dirt like frightened voles,
Fearing the sight of hawks above,
Next she turned her gaze towards the three musicians huddled together.

All they could do was block,
Each second with their hearts in their throats,
Feeling approaching death on their skin, nerves sizzling just below,
In the end they felt an odd chill, it signified a release from immediacy,
Freed their thoughts to wander towards their opponent's next move.
No vines rested at their feet, beheaded and convulsing on the ground,
But they knew they might be any second now,
What a bother, I have to try, I hate it when I have to lower myself,
To respect the aptitudes of another,
Andulan was taught from a young age, men and women,
Not of House Venom are animals, running wild and free,
Useless swine without purpose, it was her duty to give them one,
And in the process teach them what it meant to be loved.

John let loose with a piercing bellow,
Tossed his axe into the air, motioned for Kevin and Paul,
To take his left and right, Kevin held his blade out,
Guiding its purpose, resting his left hand on its gibberish,
Paul tightened his grip, felt his bones straining from tension,
Three prongs glimmered in the falling light, evening was fast upon them,
Andulan caught his axe, and threw it aside,
John whistled, it spun, built up speed and returned for another go,
Paul pierced the girl in the chest, green blood oozed out and around his weapon,
Vines took away his choices, wrapped around his arms, he was paralyed,
Come closer, I'll take away your fears with my fangs,
She pulled him closer, held his chin under her delicate fingers, touched his left cheek,
A single tendril slithered up to his neck before coiling tightly around it, stealing his breath.
Andulan moved in for the bite, tasted it before her lips made contact,
Kevin sang into his ear, cut him loose and took him to the ground,
John's axe slammed into Andulan with enough force to cleave a castle in two,
She was knocked unconscious...

After a loud bang, that deafened everyone,
Except for Rick, perched as he was.
Andulan emerged no less for wear.
Out from under a bizarre green shroud, that obscured her entire left side,
She remained standing, it had absorbed the impact, yet the small anemic child,
Still fainted from the shock.
It was taking a toll on her, she was dangling off the side of a great green monster,
Not at all in control.
Wow, that sure was a powerful surprise,
I lost track of myself there for a moment, you must've knocked me out,
Well it doesn't matter, even if you do that my ivy will still protect me from you,
And the entire world...

While Matthew and his timid protector watched.
Sharin burned with her tears.
Inside the conflagration, behind waves of blackened heat and bitter smoke.
An ongoing mockery of lady-hood held a plump prisoner before her feet.
He vowed in vain to serve the venom queen as yet another faceless stooge.
Lucky for him she wouldn't suffer the company of anymore idiots.
Battered and humbled he wore a defiant smirk.
She'd remark later how he appeared to welcome his death.
Not everyone enjoys the company of one as glorious as myself.
That dress cast aside the darkened hue it obtained.
The scent of smoke didn't cling nor did the stench of shed tears run down its length.
For you see.
She has no remorse left in her.

After being healed, she was placed back onto her feet,
Upheld her hands, grasping green keys,
Squirming in the early night air, sewing fresh jade sleeves for her to wear,
Culminating into two extendable green spears, that could be lengthened,
To strike dragons of old out of the blood scented sky...
Forward came a multitude, of tiny deaths, tipped with venom most foul,
Set loose from her chest, legs, shoulders, arms and the bangs of her head,
Each cell of her's was converted into ammunition and fired from hundreds of guns,
Racing at the pace of song, heard rather than seen, blurry to those attuned,
To Sharin's soul.
Paul and Kevin barked at the merry three,
Play the song of quickening, as fast as you can!
We must accelerate our core melodies!

Richard tore into his violin, slicing the poor thing,
He'd saw right through it if it meant he could save his friends,
Albert strummed his harp, staining it with blood as he cut his fingers,
Christopher breathed in rapidly, filling his flute with constant air,
Their performance reached the gates of castle Sanguinair, lending music,
To those without the means to pay...
Rick acted without hope, knew his arrows wouldn't work,
Played his notes without an audience to hear them,
Each was absorbed into a tangled mass of vines, caught, twisted and snapped,
In that order each time.
Lead by roaring John, Kevin and Paul pressed on,
Into the swallowing green jungle ahead of them.

Andulan felt her strength returning, the dizziness was fading,
Her anemia was alleviated by the blood of a dozen squirrels, five voles,
Three moles, a badger and a family of deer, too slow to evade,
Such reaching, grasping death moving across the surrounding area.
John's thrown axe carved a brown road ahead, slickened by green moisture,
It mowed through the grassland before them, cutting through its share of vines.
Kevin and Paul hacked away at it's venom tipped children, all eager to play,
With their ****** corpses...
Song's presence kept them aware of their choices, if they erred even slightly,
From shown path forward, Andulan's feast would begin in earnest,
Bringing ecstasy wrapped in sadism to the young girl's life,
Corrupting her once pure, enheartening song.

Rick couldn't stomach anymore of it,
He could see the shroud of silence all around her,
Disguising her as nothing short of an abomination,
It broke his heart to see her made into a mere engine of carnage,
Unable to escape her destiny to **** without pause,
It is my duty to set her free from this,
Tragic songless existence...